Raised to Life

By Shawn M. Bland

This book represents an illustration of faith, American history, our story, inspiration, influences, family, failures and, the Redeemer. Raised to Life is a denotation of the triumphant raising of Lazarus back from the dead. Thematically, a story such as Lazarus' is woven into the core poems of this book, which also tells the narrative of the author and what God has done in reviving his life. The cathartic nature of poetry lifts people out of dark holes consuming their spirit. The title is intended to signify healing, hope, and transformation. It is purposed to denounce the sting of death and destroy despair. Raised to Life is symbolic of the author's most intimate thoughts and reflections on redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685703417

Book preview

Monster

Frightening

the monster

America

made of

me.

Once

I was

human,

now

a beast

assigned to

be.

My humanity

stripped

utterly

displaced.

Made me

this terror,

feared my

Black

race.

Long ago,

I was

the

lion,

defended my

pride.

Cubs

protected,

lioness

fierce

for each

cub

she

provides.

America

snatched

my natural

benevolence

away.

Separated

me

from my

house,

raised

hell

each

day.

Entitlement

suffocated

my

subjected

soul.

I curse

your arrogance

this too;

you shall

behold.

You betrayed

your

brother

with your

shameless

route.

Set

my destruction,

gladly

witnessed

me

bleed

out.

My people

did not

do

what you

did

to each

of us.

You

continue to

hate me,

but

you

broke

our vow,

our

trust.

This ill-imagined

scheme

cast upon

me

I reject,

still

remain

what

heaven

intended

me

to be.

You took

something

from my life

that I’ll

never get

back.

I’m trying to

survive in

America,

defenseless

to be

Black.

My son,

my daughter

inherited

my fear.

I can’t

promise

their safety,

but they

listen,

they

hear.

They know

their time

is limited,

possibly cut

short.

While your

children

chill

at your

exclusive

resort.

My daughter,

filled

with her

father’s

pain,

suffers

my sorrows,

still

never

complains.

Embraced

my vision

the day

she was

born.

Her spirit

received my

guidance;

she

trumpets

her

own

horn.

Meanwhile,

my son,

a young

Black

man,

bull’s-eye

on his

back,

still

awakened

he

stands.

He

wonders

who is this man

his father

was

birthed to

be.

Swore

his life

he’d

survive,

carry on

even

without

me.

And what

will

this country

think

of my

eldest one?

He, too,

a monster,

like father,

like

son?

Still,

your children

ease;

take

rest;

secured,

not hunted.

Privilege

knows

all

things

best.

My children

also

American

but

not