And God stepped out on space,
And he looked around and said:
I'm lonely—
I'll make me a world.

And far as the eye of God could see
Darkness covered everything,
Blacker than a hundred midnights
Down in a cypress swamp.

Then God smiled,
And the light broke,
And the darkness rolled up on one side,
And the light stood shining on the other,
And God said: That's good!

Then God reached out and took the light in his hands,
And God rolled the light around in his hands
Until he made the sun;
And he set that sun a-blazing in the heavens.
And the light that was left from making the sun
God gathered it up in a shining ball
And flung it against the darkness,
Spangling the night with the moon and stars.
Then down between
The darkness and the light
He hurled the world;
And God said: That's good!

Then God himself stepped down—
And the sun was on his right hand,
And the moon was on his left;
The stars were clustered about his head,
And the earth was under his feet.
And God walked, and where he trod
His footsteps hollowed the valleys out
And bulged the mountains up.

Then he stopped and looked and saw
That the earth was hot and barren.
So God stepped over to the edge of the world
And he spat out the seven seas—
He batted his eyes, and the lightnings flashed—
He clapped his hands, and the thunders rolled—
And the waters above the earth came down,
The cooling waters came down.

Then the green grass sprouted,
And the little red flowers blossomed,
The pine tree pointed his finger to the sky,
And the oak spread out his arms,
The lakes cuddled down in the hollows of the ground,
And the rivers ran down to the sea;
And God smiled again,
And the rainbow appeared,
And curled itself around his shoulder.

Then God raised his arm and he waved his hand
Over the sea and over the land,
And he said: Bring forth! Bring forth!
And quicker than God could drop his hand,
Fishes and fowls
And beasts and birds
Swam the rivers and the seas,
Roamed the forests and the woods,
And split the air with their wings.
And God said: That's good!

Then God walked around,
And God looked around
On all that he had made.
He looked at his sun,
And he looked at his moon,
And he looked at his little stars;
He looked on his world
With all its living things,
And God said: I'm lonely still.

Then God sat down—
On the side of a hill where he could think;
By a deep, wide river he sat down;
With his head in his hands,
God thought and thought,
Till he thought: I'll make me a man!

Up from the bed of the river
God scooped the clay;
And by the bank of the river
He kneeled him down;
And there the great God Almighty
Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night,
Who rounded the earth in the middle of his hand;
This great God,
Like a mammy bending over her baby,
Kneeled down in the dust
Toiling over a lump of clay
Till he shaped it in is his own image;

Then into it he blew the breath of life,
And man became a living soul.
Amen.      Amen.

From God's Trombones by James Weldon Johnson. Copyright © 1927 The Viking Press, Inc., renewed 1955 by Grace Nail Johnson. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Books USA Inc.

   Ring out, ye bells!
   All Nature swells
With gladness at the wondrous story,—
   The world was lorn,
   But Christ is born
To change our sadness into glory.

   Sing, earthlings, sing!
   To-night a King
Hath come from heaven's high throne to bless us.
   The outstretched hand
   O'er all the land
Is raised in pity to caress us.

   Come at his call;
   Be joyful all;
Away with mourning and with sadness!
   The heavenly choir
   With holy fire
Their voices raise in songs of gladness.

   The darkness breaks
   And Dawn awakes,
Her cheeks suffused with youthful blushes.
   The rocks and stones
   In holy tones
Are singing sweeter than the thrushes.

   Then why should we
   In silence be,
When Nature lends her voice to praises;
   When heaven and earth
   Proclaim the truth
Of Him for whom that lone star blazes?

   No, be not still,
   But with a will
Strike all your harps and set them ringing;
   On hill and heath
   Let every breath
Throw all its power into singing!

This poem appeared in The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar (Dodd, Mead and Company, 1922). It is in the public domain.

On the first morning of the moon, in land
under the birds of Ur, before the flood
dirties the memory of a couple banned
from apples and the fatal fire of blood,
Adam and Eve walk in the ghetto park,
circling a tree. They do not know the way
to make their bodies shiver in the spark
of fusion, cannot read or talk, and they
know night and noon, but not the enduring night 
of nights that has no noon. Adam and Eve,
good beasts, living the morning of the globe,
are blind, like us, to apocalypse. They probe
the sun, deathray, on the red tree. Its light
rages, illiterate, until they leave. 

From Mexico In My Heart: New And Selected Poems (Carcanet, 2015) by Willis Barnstone. Copyright © 2015 by Willis Barnstone. Used with the permission of the author.

There came a dove, an Easter dove, 
       When morning stars grew dim;
It fluttered round my lattice bars,
       To chant a matin hymn.

It brought a lily in its beak, 
       Aglow with dewy sheen;
I caught the strain, the incense breathed, 
       And uttered praise between.

It brought a shrine of holy thoughts 
       To calm my soul that day;
I caught the meaning of the note,
       Why did it fly away?

Come peaceful dove, sweet Easter dove! 
       Above earth’s storm and strife,
Sing of the joy of Easter-tide,
       Of light and hope and life.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on March 31, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.

My Savior, let me hear Thy voice tonight, 
       I’ll follow Thee, I’ll follow Thee; 
The clouds that overhang my way, obscure
    the light, 
       And all is dark to me. 

I’d hear Thy voice above the tempest’s shriek; 
       I’ll follow Thee, I’ll follow Thee; 
And though my sight be dim, my spirit weak, 
       I’ll trust, though naught I see. 

I’d feel Thy arm, supporting in the dark; 
       I’ll follow Thee, I’ll follow Thee; 
For Thou canst fan to flame, faith’s sinking 
    spark, 
       And seal my loyalty.

I shall not sink, dear Lord, when Thou’rt my 
       guide, 
          I’ll follow Thee; I’ll follow Thee; 
Though lashed by heavy waves, on ev’ry side, 
          I’m safe, when Thou’rt with me.

Songs from the Wayside (Self published, 1908) by Clara Ann Thompson. Copyright © 1908 by Clara Ann Thompson. This poem is in the public domain.  

When we sought God, when we asked Him to come, 
when we opened the door and allowed Him in, when we 
washed our masks, when we humbled ourselves, 
destroying the walls we had created–to keep us from 
loving, hoping, aching and breaking. When we
showed Him the truest parts of ourselves, He began to feel 
comfortable in the rooms we had on lock. He began to 
clean them up–taking out the dirt that covered us with
shame. He arranged our broken vases and reframed our 
self-portrays. He began to own our homes, we began to 
feel clean, we began to feel pure. Once we allowed Him in, 
we began to heal. 

 

Reprinted from A Pathway Through Survival (2021). Copyright © 2021 by Margaret O. Daramola. Used with permission of the author. All rights reserved. 

I ask you this: 
Which way to go? 
I ask you this: 
Which sin to bear? 
Which crown to put 
Upon my hair? 
I do not know, 
Lord God, 
I do not know. 

 

From Caroling Dusk (Harper & Brothers, 1927), edited by Countee Cullen. This poem is in the public domain.

Keep me ’neath Thy mighty wing,
Keep me, Jesus, keep me;
Help me praise Thy Holy name,
Keep me, Jesus, keep me.
O my Lamb, come, my Lamb,
O my good Lamb,
Save me, Jesus, save me.

Hear me as I cry to Thee;
Keep me, Jesus, keep me;
May I that bright glory see;
Keep me, Jesus, keep me.
O my Lamb, my good Lamb,
O my good Lamb,
Keep me, Jesus, keep me.

From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922), edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.

They howled ’til Pilate
Sent dear Jesus out.
Then they cursed Him
An’ knocked Him all about.

O brothers, O sisters,
Think what those sinners done—
Crucified the Lord’s Son!
Think, think . . . Oh, think . . .

From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922), edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.

Love is patient and is kind. Love doesn’t envy. Love doesn’t brag, is not proud, doesn’t behave itself inappropriately, doesn’t seek its own way, is not provoked, takes no account of evil; doesn’t rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.

This passage is taken from the World English Bible and is in the public domain.