Poem -



At your feet I prostrate myself 
In the dust I lay my pride 
To the world I live in disguise 
But form you I cannot hide 

From nothingness you have called my name 
And joined together my feeble joints
With the dust you've covered my flesh 
And called it skin for I am black

You breathe into my nostrils 
I experienced life for the first time 
Consciousness and revelation kissed my mind
My thoughts were awaken
And I was grateful 

O Creator of my soul 
Thou Ancient of days
He who was from the beginning 
Who's days cannot be numbered 
Let all of your creation humble itself 
Before your greatness 
And let all men prostrate their souls 
In the dust that thou has created from nothing.

Wilford Barker.

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