To the one’s I love… I’m sorry I scare u… but goodness flows from my hand in many a dark corner, although it’s unlit for the eyes of other people… My lord knows. Yeah, My enemies tell stories of me some can’t believe because of how reserved they see me in real life. “No… it can’t be true!”… maybe it is… maybe it isn’t… to me I don’t live to care anyway… not anymore. I’ve faced my Allah… emptied out my heart’s secrets to him. He told me to forget the whispers of men and women and to come forward… out of the darkness of self-doubt and into the light of self-knowledge and acceptance. He told me to spread out my hands and put them before me… I did… and do u know what I was given?… Malk an nafs… authority and control over myself… true power! No man… No woman…no substance… no cultural arrogance… no judgement ever laid on me or mistake I’ve ever made determines my worth or the direction of where the core of my heart wants me to travel… I’ve said it before… I am a warrior for real!… my weapon is the belief that I guard in my heart… that I am strong because I was born to be strong!… not a weak and beaten slave to every spurious impulse that passes through me. So yeah, i understand why people are afraid of me… because these aren’t just words… I tested death when I believed in nothing at all… now I look at It coming with a knowing smile… yeah… I’m almost there… going out to meet it head on… not showing my back but my face… a warrior. Pack Redfeather.

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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