Little soul,
you and I will become
the memory
of a memory of a memory.
A horse
released of the traces
forgets the weight of the wagon.
~Jane Hirshfield “Harness”

My grandmothers were strong.
They followed plows and bent to toil.
They moved through fields sowing seed.
They touched earth and grain grew.
They were full of sturdiness and singing.
My grandmothers were strong.

My grandmothers are full of memories
Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay
With veins rolling roughly over quick hands
They have many clean words to say.
My grandmothers were strong.
Why am I not as they?
~Margaret Walker “Lineage”

In recognition of the history of Juneteenth...

So many years of shouldering huge burdens
while waiting for freedom from the harness:
grandmothers, grandfathers, parents, children
struggling through every ounce of sweat,
every sore muscle,
every drop of blood,
every tear.

How can one forget the weight of the plow
as it turns over the earth
where someday all will rest as dust?

The soil of strong hearts is well-tilled,
yielding to the plowshare,
furrowed deep and straight
by the hard pull of the traces.

Although black hearts and minds are still tread upon
yet do they bloom;
even when turned inside out
yet do they flourish.

Plow deep our hearts this day, oh Lord,
to celebrate freedom declared for all God’s children.

May we never forget the strength it took to hold on…
to plow, sow, grow, gather and harvest that freedom,
the steady pull on the traces
in order to raise up strong children and grandchildren
evermore and everywhere.

Thank you once again to Joel DeWaard, local farmer, craftsman and photographer, who graciously shares his remarkable photos.