There was a time in high school when "Diesel" was the most common nickname in the world (or so it seemed). "Diesel", at the time, had this connotation of tough, strong, toned, ripped. So of course every football team in America had a fat kid nicknamed Diesel. Not because he was diesel, but because it was ironic.
Haiti has a similar name: Son Son. Almost every young Haitian guy I know answers to the name Son Son in one circumstance or another. If you see a young Haitian guy walking down the street and you want to get his attention, yell "Son Son" and I almost guarantee that he'll answer. I swear it works.
And so, in honor of all the overweight, high-school football players and young, Haitian men of the world, I give you my poem entitled "Son Sun":
Although I never left
Your arms,
You show me that I'm home.
You breeze through this structure like the cool night air
But I know that my faith must not fade with the light of day.
For the light I walk by is not of this world
And the Son that causes it will never set again.
He has risen.
I am obligated
To serve the Son until He sets.
And if that means that my work will never end,
Then that also means that I will never tire
Of seeking after the one who rose for me.
1 comments:
That's a great poem. I really like it.
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