But On a Quiet Night
Dreams Still Whisper
In December, I had the joy of introducing you to D.J., one of my business partners. Today, I’m reflecting on the idea that not all artifacts are products like ball caps or T-shirts.
Some of the most meaningful artifacts we create are the ones we offer in simple, personal ways—like the contribution D.J. brought to our Monday huddle today.
These offerings are rarely elaborate, but their power lies in their authenticity and vulnerability.
They plant vivid images.
They ignite imagination.
They transform ordinary moments into something unforgettable.
As we honor Martin Luther King Jr. today, we hope this poem will spark something meaningful and speak to something deep inside of you.
Long ago,
deep beneath the yet
unformed paths of the
Algonquin*,
raw earth cooled, crystalline,
uplifting and slowly surfacing
through layers of sediment, rock, and soil—
as if divinely destined
to become a temple’s steps
and
terraced walls
in a gleaming city.
Then, this moment—
faces shimmering in reflection,
lining pathways,
filling boulevards,
determined, strained, hopeful,
hungry for the fullness
of what was promised.
The temple steps,
flat-hewn stone,
hold his purposeful feet,
reverberating with hope:
a world where mighty justice
rivers flow.
Now,
marble, limestone,
and granite
keep watch over memory:
the moment,
the shimmering reflection
like a baptismal, and
the sting of an April morning’s
irreparable loss.
But on a quiet night,
his voice, like wind
over the promontory,
boldly, brilliantly, beautifully
whispers his dream
anew into the ancient bedrock,
like a prayer.
—
We miss you.
//djs, 1/20/25
*Author's Note: The Algonquin reference here is a nod to "granite blocks from Massachusetts" that comprise the "terrace walls and lower steps" at the Lincoln Memorial, where King gave his Dream speech.
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