This February at Walnut Hill Community Church, as we celebrate Black History Month, we are honored to highlight the poetic voices of Black writers whose work and rich legacy bear witness to faith, perseverance and hope throughout history.
Each week we will feature one gifted artist whose voice and verse reflect not only the breadth of Black artistic expression, but also the heartbeat of our shared Christian journey.
These poems, drawn from historic and contemporary voices, affirm our Vision Sunday Commitments of Worship, Equipping, Healing and Light Bearing. They echo the Divine attributes of faith that equips, mercy that heals, hope that illuminates, and love that unites. Join us as we explore how art and the Gospel meet, how ancient truths become living poetry and how every stanza draws us deeper into God’s purpose for unity, justice and compassionate living.
Poets & Poems
George Moses Horton (c. 1797 – 1883)
WE ARE CALLED TO BE A SPIRITUAL HOSPITAL (Isaiah 61)
Compassion that heals and restores deep wounds
George Moses Horton was an enslaved poet whose work gave voice to deep longing for dignity, belonging and freedom. Through poetry, Horton bore witness to the power of hope, human connection and the dream of restored community.
In this poem Like Brother We Meet, Horton paints a vision of fractured people being restored into unity. This work paints an image that echoes the call of Isaiah 61 to heal the brokenhearted and bind up wounds. The poem reflects a place where compassion replaces division, where the weary are welcomed back into community, and where peace, care and restoration make room for abundant life.
Like Brothers We Meet by George Moses Horton
Like heart-loving brothers we meet,
And still the loud thunders of strife,
The blaze of fraternity kindles most sweet,
There’s nothing more pleasing in life.
The black cloud of faction retreats,
The poor is no longer depressed,
See those once discarded resuming their seats,
The lost strangers soon will find rest.
The soldier no longer shall roam,
But soon shall land safely ashore,
Each soon will arrive at his own native home,
And struggle in warfare no more.
The union of brothers is sweet,
Whose wives and children do come,
Their sons and fair daughters with pleasure they greet,
The union of brothers is sweet,
Whose wives and children do come,
Their sons and fair daughters with pleasure they greet,
When long absent fathers come home.
They never shall languish again,
Nor discord their union shall break,
When brothers no longer lament and complain,
Hence never each other forsake.
Hang closely together like friends,
By peace killing foes never driven,
The storm of commotion eternally ends,
And earth will soon turn into Heaven.
James Weldon Johnson (June 17, 1871 - June 26, 1938)
WE ARE CALLED TO BE AN EQUIPPING CENTER FOR ALL GENERATIONS (Matthew 28:19–20)
Faith that nurtures and empowers believers
James Weldon Johnson was a poet, minister, educator and civil rights leader whose work blended faith, justice and music to uplift the Black community and the nation.
His poem, Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing is known as a communal song of faith that carries hope, perseverance and trust in God from one generation to the next, echoing the heart of lifelong discipleship. It invites all believers to unite, strengthen their faith and walk in obedience together. It is rooted in gratitude, endurance and praise. This poem mirrors the journey of being formed into disciples who remember God’s faithfulness and boldly proclaim His goodness in everyday life.
Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing by James Weldon Johnson
Lift ev’ry voice and sing
‘Til Earth and Heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the list’ning skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on ’til victory is won.
Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
‘Til now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who has by Thy might
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,
Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land