Life Is A Big Sea

My Seeking Has Been To Explain And Illuminate The Negro Condition In America And Obliquely That Of All Human Kind.

What Happens To A Dream Deferred? Does It Dry Up Like A Raisin In The Sun? Or Fester Like A Sore-- And Then Run? Does It Stink Like Rotten Meat? Or Crust And Sugar Over-- Like A Syrupy Sweet? Maybe It Just Sags Like A Heavy Load. Or Does It Explode?

While Over Alabama Earth These Words Are Gently Spoken: Serve And Hate Will Die Unborn. Love And Chains Are Broken.

Oh, God Of Dust And Rainbows, Help Us To See That Without The Dust The Rainbow Would Not Be.

I've Known Rivers: I've Known Rivers Ancient As The World And Older Than The Flow Of Human Blood In Human Veins. My Soul Has Grown Deep Like The Rivers. I Bathed In The Euphrates When Dawns Were Young. I Built My Hut Near The Congo And It Lulled Me To Sleep. I Looked Upon The Nile And Raised The Pyramids Above It. I Heard The Singing Of The Mississippi When Abe Lincoln Went Down To New Orleans, And I've Seen Its Muddy Bosom Turn All Golden In The Sunset. I've Known Rivers: Ancient, Dusky Rivers. My Soul Has Grown Deep Like The Rivers.