By Paul Swenson
Called to hold the keys
of mysteries. Yet both,
at 34, were locked away;
Joseph jailed at Liberty,
dropped through a hole
in prison floor into the pit.
In Birmingham, Martin
declared: Where there
is injustice, I am there,
and it would not be fair
of me to spurn the call
for aid to preach abroad
the Freedom Gospel.
Just as Paul was not
afraid to leave the town
of Tarsus, and in cells
throughout the Roman
Empire, tell of Christ.
Jailers for these eccentric
visionaries were curious:
Guards made mock
of Joseph—withdrew
in shock and fear
when he rebuked
them. Martin’s keepers,
peering through the bars,
were moved—by prayers,
songs, words of praise
raised by men in chains.
History’s remains?
The letters. From Liberty,
name framed in irony,
Joseph wrote, Circumstance
calculated to awaken
our spirits to sacred
remembrance. Nothing
can separate us from love
of God and fellowship, one
with another. Every cruelty
practiced on us [or on a brother]
will only bind our hearts together.
From Alabama, Martin penned,
We are caught in…mutuality…
tied by…a garment of destiny.
To purge their peoples, mobbers
and assassins came. When you
see them lynch your mothers,
drown your sisters, brothers…
hate-filled policemen…you may understand it’s hard for us
to wait, read Martin’s missive.
At 39, they both were dead.
Joseph gone to Carthage,
calm as summer’s morning,
Martin to the mountaintop,
then to Memphis for the kill.
I want to do God’s will, he said.
I don’t fear any man.
I’ve seen the glory of the Lord.
And, so had Joseph.
I LOVE Paul Swenson! We miss You Paul!