The Power of Place: A Pilgrimage Poem

I recently went on a one week tour of southern US civil rights sites with my Doctor of Ministry cohort for our class "Social Justice and the Mission of God." I'm still processing all the ways in which this trip has changed me, but throughout the trip I took some of the things people said, the things we learned and sites we saw, and wrote this poem as a way to help me remember and reflect on all that we encountered. 

I share this with you humbly, cautiously, and hopefully. There is much work for us to do as we strive to bring human flourishing, justice, and peace to God's people and God's world. May our eyes be open to what God is calling us to, may our hearts be broken for what breaks God's heart, and may we strive to partner with the work God is doing so that we may continue to bring the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven. 

A Pilgrimage Poem 

by Katelyn Hargrave

The power of place.

This place.

This space.

Where the blood of those lynched cries from the Mississippi earth as the greenery folds in around the crumbling walls of history too soon to be repeated. 

Can you hear them? 

Can you feel them? 

The oppressive weight of heat, humidity, and grief mingling with the longing for justice and change. 

The cries of mothers grieving for the sons once kept safe within their wombs, 

The cries of a people displaced and longing for freedom. 

There’s power in this place. 

Won’t you listen? To the call, to the screams, to the cries - all pointing toward a longing for new creation...

In this place. 

In this space. 

Through the trees that know more stories than we do, 

Through the songs that speak of hope, waiting, and deep deep sorrow...

The deep Deep South continues to cry out. 

We cry, "may Your kingdom come, may Your will be done." But do we mean it? 

Do we really want the change? 

If so, we better be ready. 

We can’t let fear hold us down, or drown out the voices that have too long been stifled by the white man’s power and pride. 

“If you choose to live in fear, you choose to live in bondage” - so we listen to the voices of people long gone, 

those present and with us, 

and we march on. 

We move beyond fear, trusting in the action of God in our midst that reconciliation and justice will roll down like the waters of the Mississippi, and righteousness like a mighty stream of love. 

We pray with our feet, and keep moving.

May Dr. King’s words be our benediction, 

“Now let us go out to stick together and stay with this thing until the end."

Trees in the Civil Rights Memorial Park in Selma, AL next to the Edmund Pettus Bridge

Montgomery, AL

Montgomery, AL