Woman is that truly you,
crying to be delivered?
Your glow is evident, the sun clothes you.
Who would believe that you are for real?
Though John saw you, this so unexpected.
What caused you to appear as a minority?
Has there been improvement?
Did we treat you better than Jesus?
Son, because of my skin color, I was
mistreated, not taken seriously.
I am here for judgment, to understand,
was not to condemn but justify.
But I recognized your struggles.
Take comfort in that, many will be punished.
I’ve learned, remain sadden, alone and abandoned.
Unrecognized, not by him who sent me, still I am.
You are my child, I wrote life lessons,
instruction for you in The cry of my children.
That’s my gift to God’s children!