I woke from a dream this morning with the beginning of this poem starting out-loud. So I grabbed my phone and wrote what I saw in the dream and what was coming in way of words. I have edited it (spelling!) this morning but 80% was an easy flow. It all came as one. I pray if you are waiting for Justice that this will powerfully heal and strengthen you.

Here she stands

Strong.

Without uttering a word,

her presence is known, felt.

It shifts the atmosphere.

All eyes turn toward her,

waiting for her to speak.

Before a word is uttered,

her presence brings-

a steady warmth of confidence,

the gentle bold beauty in her stance.

Anticipation swirls around her.

Waiting is thrilling at first-

when eyes are on her, the future feels secure.

The ground feels stronger.

I feel stronger.

Yet waiting stretches thin.

Eyes drift away,

glancing left and right.

My eyes catch places

crying out for her arrival.

In the shadows of lives,

a woman stands—broken.

Eyes cast downward,

the weight of injustice draped over her like a cloak.

Trapping her.

Engulfing her.

Holding her back…

Drip-feeding her shame.

A shame not hers to drink.

At first, she spat it out—bitter, unwanted.

Yet as she waits…

and waits…

hope fades into disappointment,

and the cloak settles over her shoulders.

Drip. Drip.

She no longer remembers what she was waiting for—

only where she stands now.

Cloaked in injustice, drinking in shame.

The scenes in the shadows—too painful to watch.

As injustice covers him, then her,

the longer it lingers, the more shame drips.

The more it drips, the more hope slips.

Distortion clouds their vision.

Fear and anger fill their sight.

The cloak pulled tight—

they peer through the lens of pain.

I have to find her again.

Here she stands—

without uttering a word,

her presence known.

The steady warmth of confidence,

the gentle bold beauty in her stance.

She lifts her arm—

a mighty shield of gold, encrusted with jewels.

The strength in her form, I’d thought only muscular,

now gleams—armor of gold, fitted tight.

As she raises her shield,

she opens her mouth—

and a roar was unleashed 

Not as I expected—

not the roar of a lion,

but the thunderous crash of mighty waters,

like the loudest waterfall, fierce and unrelenting.

The sound shakes the ground.

Those who had turned away snap back toward her roar.

It aches to lift their heads—

to hope again.

Yet even that small act is faith.

As Justice bellows her freedom song,

the cloaks ignite—burning to ash.

The shame, once dripping slow,

disintegrates with it.

Justice has spoken.

Destroying injustice.

Banishes shame.

Let justice roll like waters & righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. Amos 5.24