One of the hardest things u can ever do is force urself to just let the will of God be the will of God and hold ur peace about what the out come will end up being. And The proof of ur wisdom isn’t based on the words ur mind can conjour up or compose with eloquence or seeming sensibility. To someone who’s already walked the road uve never been down all the way through, there’s nothing u can tell him about it’s journey or it’s ultimate destination either. Ur words are feeble… The views and speech of a child who constantly says ” I know, I know, ” yet has never truely been out on his own. To give warning to such people even with the loudest of voices proves vain everytime if ur in the midst of a roaring tornado. They can’t hear u… And How could they?… So here I am.. I care.. But I cannot cure. I found my cave of refuge from the pounding rain… And from it’s mouth I hold my peace and just watch, unable to help or be heard by those running around blind in the storm…God help u all. Gn

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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