I heard something long ago… some line from a movie I used to watch… the hero was on some sacred mission to find an ancient relic that was lost somewhere… idk… kind of corny… but religious movies with a touch of mystery always appealed to me. Anyway, some supposed villain, who actually turned out to be a good guy, after having fought the hero and losing, asked the hero a serious question I’ll never forget… it hangs over my concience now in my own life. It’s a matter of motive. He asked in regards to the relic, “ why do u seek it?… is it for his (God) glory… or ur own?”… I ask myself…” Pack?… Pack…what are u really doing all of this for?”…. I was at work, a woman came in with a little girl. They got some junk food, came to my till and the mom handed me an ebt card. I took it, ran it, then gave it back… then with what little real money this woman had, she asks to buy some white owl blunts… I felt it… I looked at the little girl, then the woman, and on the inside asked my Maker… correction… Our maker, to forgive me for what I had to do. Then I did what I was told. I don’t want to do this anymore… help people continue on walking backwards. I’m nobody’s judge, hell, I’ve probably done 100 times worse than this poor woman will ever do… but I swear to u all… I care now… about myself, about them, even about u strangers out there who wouldn’t give my weird self a second glance. I’m under constraints. There are things I don’t want to do but have to do at present in order to survive that morally I’m starting to have issues with. But If I don’t work.. I beg… and if I’m a beggar when i can work, than by my own standards I am not a man…period!…there are people depending on me! So my lord Allah, I ask u to free me from this conflict I feel! Please set right my affairs in this life so that I can help and no longer hurt others… I would do this if u help me remember…for ur glory alone … and not my own…to say thanks…My word…Ameen.

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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