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"Aretha sang the way black folks sing
when they leave themselves alone. "
Ray Charles
God lifted your regal voice,
invoking your father's
seamless faith and mission,
marching with Martin,
to sing for our King,
for his vision,
for his dream.
"Mary, don't you weep,
Pharaoh's army got drowned"
Your songs soar with angels,
strengthen our resolve,
demand respect
like a Natural Woman,
to think, to Do Right
despite racial strife
or some lowdown man,
inflicting endless grief
on a woman's pain cause