Down At The Bural Grounds

Down at the burial grounds,

the stilled tongues of ancestors

no longer scream out

chastising words; yet in the quietness

only nature can give---in the ears

of womb of mind---you can hear

the tinkling of ghost freedom bells:

 

     “Tinkle’ling”---Tinkle’ling.”

     “Tinkle’ling”---Tinkle’ling.”

 

Down at the burial grounds,

in the quietness only nature can give---

in the ears of the womb of mind---you can hear

ghost voices echoing:

 

     “Let freedom ring!”

     “Let freedom ring!”

 

Down at the burial grounds,

in the quietness only nature can give---

in the ears of the womb of mind---you can hear

ancestral ghosts whispering:

 

     “Son, don’t let nobody turn you ‘round!”

     “Son, don’t let nobody turn you ‘found!”

 

Down at the burial grounds,

in the quietness only nature can give---

you can hear---in the womb of mind---ancestral

taunts:

 

   “They don’t give freedom; you got to take it!”

   “They don’t give freedom; you got to take it!”

 

Brethren, in the quietness only nature can give---

in the womb of mind---we need spend more time

echoing ancestral ghost voices---

 

The children need to hear; that they may know

from whence they came---where they are---

what must be their focus now---as they go

about getting to where they must be: moving

 

      On ahead of you and me.

 

Then they too, can go down to the burial grounds;

And in the quietness only nature can give---

Hear---in the womb of mind---our ghost whisperings:

   

    “Hold that thought, the revolution is being televised.”

                                                            AND

    “The truth shall set you free; free your mind and you are.”