beloved painted black

I know it

I know it like I know I'm a girl

like I know my nose is beneath my eyes 

like the pale birthmark on my back

I know it's right

I know it is my construction

I know it's my calling.

I know I'm called to the Africans

I just know it.

This week I found old schoolwork

age eight to twenty two.

Sixteen papers of seventeen

depict the desperate dreaming

of a young girl in barefoot battle,

ivory hand-in-hand with fingers Divine.

Sixteen of sixteen name Africa my home.

The calling could not be more clear

the calling... could not be more clear. 

Maybe two years maybe thirty

the calling could not be more clear.

I hear the Lord saying

in reverberating echo:

"Listen closely as I speak

for the saints I call with purpose.

Equip the college campus not just 'sent' but bold to come.

across the ocean waters to bring Christ where darkness reigns

Not today, dear child, but first raise up with prayer & passion

an army two by two.

For two hands are all you have 

but inter-weaved called as the body, 

all the more, Christ at work.

I care not for Africa but for the Africans.

Delight in me as I transform you

to bring Truth to Beloved painted black"

So until then, names I know not yet,

I pray for your souls & tilling 

that when I hold you in my arms 

[the youth of Alabama by my side]

you will know that Jesus holds you 

you will know that Jesus holds you