by Thomas Davis
They fought religion as a whiteness, probed
To find a way inside their lives to let
The genius centered by His love, light robed
With justice, free slaves from the numbing threat
Dredged from the God of thunder who had touched
The white race with superiority and rights
That forged the chains that bound free spirits clutched
With anguish felt through years of days and nights.
The abolitionists reached out and tried
To build invisible, faint trails the god
Of whiteness couldn’t find since he denied
The wrongs done in his name and lived a fraud
That failed to comprehend that souls of men
Could see his Christianity as sin.
Note: A sonnet from the novel, In the Unsettled Homeland of Dreams I am submitting to University of Wisconsin Press.
fourwindowspress 
A very powerful, thought-provoking sonnet, Tom.
Thanks Betty.
That’s a big, big subject Tom! And the sonnet is the perfect form for it: all that compression in a tiny space!
Thanks John. How is your new book coming along? I can hardly wait to see it. This is a big, complex subject. I appreciate your comment. I have been afraid that the sonnet’s compression was to tight to address what is being said. If it works I am grateful because it is complex.
Good going, Tom!
Thanks Paula! Ethel and I are heading to Montrose Colorado tomorrow. We’re looking forward to our western time. I hope you and Karen are well. Are you working on a new book? I’ll buy it!