Oppression's Wind

Opportunity knocked, but I was not at home

For I was bound by circumstances of life

Where chance and hope were gone.

Then to me… she came again one day,

And knocked once more upon my door,

Yet, even then I could not find my way,

For I lived in the darkness

and was shackled by the binding chains of war.

So here... now I just sit and wait,

Staring…staring into that empty place

Hoping that she will come again

and knock once more

on my now older and tattered door.

Yet what would I to her say,

If she were to appear at my door today,

could I with confidence let her in?

And tell her I am glad she came again,

Or would I fail once more,

To reach the threshold of my door,

For how could I possibly begin?

When all my life….all my life

I have been running against

 oppressions wind.

J. Allen Wilson © 2004