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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Echoing the Arch<\/strong><\/span> by David Betteridge<\/em><\/p>\n He was portrayed as a dancing man, He marched at risk of his life How long, he cried, echoing the Psalmist, He is remembered for his consoling A poor boy, be became rich in talent; Look to the rock from which His arch spanned great divides; Lighten mine eyes, he prayed, Dead now, sleeping now, It falls to us and others now Echoing the ArchIn memory of Desmond Tutu (1931 \u2013 2021) by David Betteridge He was portrayed as a dancing man,and one given to laughter,but he marched as…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":380,"featured_media":14345,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1660],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry-2"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/380"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14347"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14347\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14345"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.gfdesign.co.uk\/culture\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
In memory of Desmond Tutu
(1931 \u2013 2021)<\/p>\n
and one given to laughter,
but he marched as often as he danced,
and he wept.<\/p>\n
for justice and for peace.
He wept at their denial,
and their breach.<\/p>\n
how long shall I take counsel in my soul,
having sorrow in my heart daily?<\/p>\n
and for his reconciling;
but he as often challenged and confronted,
saying to his allies, when he thought
them wrong, as to his foes,
Stop and No and How long?<\/p>\n
he out-scholared his teachers;
a servant of his God, he led peoples
and nations; not proud,
he boldly assumed the role of Moses
facing down Pharaohs;
he made his words a sword,
and the course of his life
a long battleground.<\/p>\n
you were hewn, he exhorted,
echoing Isaiah.
He became that rock,
hard, resistant, a sure place
on which to build.<\/p>\n
he embraced spectrums of folk,
seeing them as one;
he was a rainbow of hope,
even when others saw none.<\/p>\n
lest I sleep the sleep of death.<\/p>\n
he lives on, lightening our eyes,
still dancing and marching,
and laughing and weeping
as we remember him,
still consoling and reconciling,
and challenging and confronting.<\/p>\n
to look to our own rock
and become it,
and to echo the arch
that was this great warrior.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"