From the Seat of My Soul

      In my childhood on my grandparent's farm, it was the rooster's crow at dawn, which encapsulated the nature of God's creation in the serenity of a loving family. But, for the last four years, on sporadic mornings, I would be awakened by the bark of my dog Raven. The dawn erupted with the blast of a whistle way off in the distance. Her ears fine-tuned to the encroachment of a train, giving warning to its tonnage by the roar of its engines, racing louder until it passes, leaving in its echo the clanging of rail cars, its wheels churning upon the railways of the times. A clanking that reverberated in my soul as shackles of bondage. On January 6, 2021, a train ran into the United States Capital. Its cargo? The unlearned lessons of years passed now projected in real-time.
       On January 20, 2021, it was cagey that I awaken to the tranquility of my childhood serenity. Daylight had come and Raven slept quietly by the bedroom door. It was the dawn of a new day. The question is, will we as a people take a reckoning?
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