His Name Will BE

his name will be Willis

there was no manger
no myrrh,
no wise men to witness

only the back room of Miller's Grocery
where the dust spangled like a waterfall
flowing down the rays,
bleeding on the vine

but holy it seemed
and to her, bound in her make-shift dream
holy it was

his name will be Willis

her mind spiraled through the moment
painting visions of dreams
that floated free and wild, then
fell scattered upon the hard floor
like candy from a broken pinata


she held the bloody little boy tenderly in her arms
and swayed side to side
as the tears rushed to break free
of the reality that shackles a soul

his name will be Willis

he will be a good boy!
a fine young man!
a gladiator to the future
and a remedy for my pain
-a reason to hope

he will carry the banner of freedom in the thump of his chest
the vision of justice shall rule his way, and the light
in his eyes will guide the many

his heart will be tender, his way gentle,
and his love pure
while his strength will win the day for those fallen

and his name will be Willis!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i met Willis today, in Southern Georgia.
he wasn't at the pool of Siloam healing the sick
or preaching wisdom to the unlearned
from a hillside while feeding the multitude.

he was working in a mill,
wearing scuffed work boots instead of sandals
and his Daddy's watch on his dirty wrist

but i could see that same light his Momma saw
and sensed his tender heart that spawns a pure love

and justice need not be grand to be lovely
nor freedom flagged in bloody colours
to set the chained free

his name is Willis
and he's a good man, Momma
worthy of the hopes that cascaded
your heaven sent dreams,
giving you reason