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Unformed Words

I've been having a funeral of words in my throat, unable to verbalize the ironic agony that has been piercing my soul. On one hand, God has given me the ability and resources to release my fifth book, The Haitian Creole Alphabets, to help preserve my rich culture; on the other hand, there are a number of natives in my homeland who seem to be working to obliterate its existence. I'm having to constantly whisper to my heart not to lose hope because the greatest little island in the world will find a way to amplify its voice like it did in 1803. I strongly believe divine intervention from God is the only answer for this disaster. In the mean time, I'll continue to hope, pray, and help in any way I can to help my people turn to Christ and rebuild like never before. I leave with you with the poem I wrote about my beloved Haiti:


Dying to survive in a country

Notoriously known for managing misery

she’s living but internally attending her own funeral

This torture makes child birth feel like child’s play

Rest avèk is today’s slavery in hi-tech

Family members cracking whips of ignorance

In the minds of their own relatives

Identity crisis,

Let’s pledge allegiance to humanity

Instead of nationality

reject rebellion and embrace second Corinthians’ ministry of reconciliation

We were born to live great like God’s grace

That’s not dependent on the poverty of our faith

M anwe sitèlman m rele amwe

This seems to be relative only

To those who are directly connected to this reality Kidnappings to political instability

Where’s the unity in this rotten immorality

This is not a passive call for feeling sorry

Because that wind of desire has never helped anybody

Sacrifice is never convenient and comes at a high price

Ask Christ who gave up His life for you to live

Haiti is a fallen star without the sun on the inside

To help her shine and become light of the world

She wouldn’t be dying to survive

If her own kind would love her

With Calvary’s unconditional love

The mother of our land has become ravaged beauty

She needs your helping hand in this excruciating pain

Will these words fade away from your conscience

The minute they’re heard?

Will you be another child who watches his mother die to survive

Or you will you get out of your comfort zone and respond? She’s dying.

© Copyright Berwick Augustin

Berwick Augustin is a published author, poet, and educator. He offers self-paced online courses that teach the basic elements of writing and the structure of opinion, informative, and argumentative essays. He is also an educator, spoken word poet, author, and consultant at Evoke180 publishing.

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