Time (again, Time) like the soul, wears many faces, many bodies and climates and attitudes. The past is one face, the present a second and the future yet another.
ABERJHANIAnd now we step to the rhythm of miracles. –from The Light, That Never Dies
More Aberjhani Quotes
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History dressed up in the glow of love’s kiss turned grief into beauty.
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What more civilized way for people to alleviate the same than by giving themselves to one another as brothers and sisters in deed as well as in word?
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War poisons the land Like diseased minds downloaded/ into bowls of tears.
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What hell condemned, let heaven now heal.
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The study of history empowers nations and individuals with an ability to avoid errors of the past and lay foundations for victories in the future.
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Many may very well continue to ask why more value is placed on technicalities of a law than on a man’s flesh and blood life, especially when there is any amount of “doubt” at all regarding his guilt or innocence.
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And the relentless suffocation of that singular breath which makes human beings individuals.
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Without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss.
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Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela might be measured in part by the profound and unique gestures made by people in different countries to honor his life upon learning of his death.
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In honor of Oprah Winfrey: Even greater than the ability to inspire others with hope is the power to motivate them to give as much to the lives of others as they would give to their own
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It becomes more and more difficult to avoid the idea of black men as subjects of not just racial profiling but of an insidious form of racial obliteration sanctioned by silence.
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At its most dynamic, faith evolves into powerful applicable knowledge.
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You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.
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The same hot lightning that burns your blood with passion–– cools your fears with peace.
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September 11, 2001: Citizens of the U.S., besieged by terror’s sting, rose up, weeping glory, as if on eagles’ wings.–from the poem Angel of Remembrance: Candles for September 11, 2001
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