You are my witnesses
Call the world to the court and have them speak
Because they trust in me
They will understand truth and abide in love
Sufferings are coming
But those dragged into the streets
and in false houses
and before thrones
and into prisons
and trampled by feet
and spit on by evil men
Will yet not lose a hair on their heads
Out of beautiful mouths
They will speak words that strike down kings
If you were their witnesses
They would love you as their own
But do not stumble!
For nothing of this world
nor any measure of it
nor past despair
nor future fears
nor the exalted
nor the fallen ones
nor our enemy the grave
Will take you from me.
— David Dickens
Other poems just like this one can be found at his blog, Nothing Hypothetical. I don't know what it is or why, but his verses speak to me very strongly, something like a combination of the Bible and Walt Whitman, my favorite poet. I don't apologize for liking Whitman any more than I apologize for following Jesus and bearing witness to Him, but I know which one of them is the Master, and which one was just trying to be free. I hope he made it.
David, thanks for continuing these poems. Your others are every bit as foundational as this one. I thank God for your talent and testimony. Truth is Truth. Glory to God.
I must admit, Uncle Walt and I go way back as well. I also don't make apologies for Walt. Do philosophers make apologies for Epictetus?
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