TRIBUTE TO THOSE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES IN THE ORLANDO NIGHT CLUB SHOOTING
They found a place of refuge;
A place where there were no closet doors
Where no sanctified sisters condemned them
With their sweet hallelujahs of hatred and hypocrisy.
They found a place, a secret place,
Where their midnight rendez-vous’ were free of
Clear and present danger.
Self-proclaimed divas made their way to the dance floor
to find their hidden rhythms….
Rhythms that were bound together by their same gender loving hearts.
They danced and they sang and they threw dollar bills at the feet of their queen
Black sheep unrobed themselves and hung their garments of shame in the closet
because there was plenty of room in them—and no doors.
Military men and cleaning ladies, black bodies and tan faces
Were In this place, Refuge was in this place.
But on the PULSE of the dawning of a new day, the Lord’s Day
Their refuge became their tomb.
Sacrificial blood spewed from their lifeless bodies
As if they had been washed in Calvary’s flow.
Your names are now known in the hearts of so many.
Some call you sister, and cousin, and son, and daughter
And lover and friend.
And now we call you Angel.
I feel each of your spirits, lifted from those blood stained floors
To now soaring beyond the clouds as you journey from time to eternity.
And today I shed a tear for you my brother and my sister
And with this kiss I seal my life of love and devotion to be better at living
And loving humanity.
--Dr. Mark G. Henderson