The stone…

Part of my vision was this: Very dark and deep ocean waters… and a smooth stone, tossed into it by an anonymous hand… just sinking; sinking and twisting; twisting and turning… seemingly without a course or a guide. Unseen by any eye… wildly but steadily on its way down; all the way to the murky bottoms. Such is the way of my life… forever being compelled and bullied by the powerful influence of underwater waves I can’t control or fight against; pushing and pulling me around and down into the awaiting blackness of the unknown. Although truly, this vision I have sometimes is soaked in sadness, it’s beauty to the visionary’s eye is unquestionably undeniable; for yes, I may be acutely falling by the world’s estimation pointlessly and undirected into such an irrelevant nothingness as the much hoped for ultimate goal of my spiritual ambitions totally alone and in the darkness… but can’t u see, because I do… that yes, I may be falling incessantly downwards into a seeming void… but I’m falling free!…

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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