Where it all takes place… Refuge from the storm. I’ve been criticised because I come here. To stand, to bow, and to prostrate before my God…our God. Reciting words of excellence and true beauty in devotion to the one that made me. “That’s too much!” I’m told. “Why do u need to wash up and do this all the time, i talk to the lord in the bathroom if i want to!” All these things i hear but i dont aknowledge…i cant aknowledge. For me this duty is no burden. Without it, i’d be homeless and high either begging or stealing from u. If u really care..encourage..if its envy…humble urself, put away ur pride and bow urself down with me. Is not ur guardian-lord worthy enough of this from u??? What greater symbol can there be then the creation bowing down before The Creator.

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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