In the beginning…
The great God dreamed a dream through me,
Mighty as a dream of God could be;
He made me a victorious woman,
Shaped me unto a perfect plan,
Summoned me forth to radiant birth
Upon the radiant earth
He lavished gifts within my hand,
Gave me the power to command
The thundering forces that he hurled
Upon the seething world
Creation’s dream was wondrous good
Had I but understood
The great God dreamed a dream through me,
But I was rendered blind with black racial socialisation
and could not see.
My royal gifts were laid in rust,
For parentage, I claimed the dust.
Decay and sorrow, age and blight
These gifts I deemed my right.
The great God spoke a word through me
That word was Life. How can it be?
That I, in God s own substance made,
Should face the universe, afraid?
Born of eternal life am I
Why should I fail and die?
O God, so huge was thine intent,
So greatly was thy passion spent!
This counterfeit is not the plan
That Thou didst dream for me
Tis this: my dream must mate with thine,
My word, my life, must be divine;
I must be conscious through and through
To make Thy dream come true!
Angela Morgan
(Slightly adapted to personalise)