“Black Hebrews”

Descendants of echoes crossing sand and sea,  
Black Hebrews journey through history’s memory—  
Their faith an inheritance tougher than stone,  
A song sewn in exile, yet always their own.

Under African sun or in Brooklyn’s bold sprawl,  
They lift up the stories the prophets recall—  
Of Moses, the desert, the promise and plight,  
Of hallowed returns through the long, watchful night.

Their Sabbath begins as the daylight expires,  
Candles like sentinels—hope never tires—  
Fringes swing gently from garments of prayer,  
While words ancient and sacred hang bright in the air.

From Limba and Lemba, on Zimbabwean roads,  
To Harlem’s soft hum where the blue Hudson flows,  
They gather in temples, in houses, in song,  
Each voice a mosaic that’s rich and lifelong.

History’s tapestry gathers its thread  
From Ethiopia’s hills where old scrolls are read  
To the westward migration where waters are wide,  
Their lineage and lore interwoven with pride.

O Israel’s children whose skin speaks the sun,  
Keepers of verses, the old and the young—  
Your journey is written in earth and in sky,  
In steadfastness rising as centuries fly.

So sing of your sorrow, your struggle, your flight,  
And sing of your joy in the Sabbath’s pure light—  
For Black Hebrews carry a story so wide,  
It bridges all chasms with faith as their guide.

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