Odetta: Voice of the Soul
Odetta: Voice of the Soul In the distant past, where songs are born, A voice rose steady, both soft and worn. Odetta, beacon of melody's might, A flame that blazed through the longest night. Her chords carried burdens, stories untold, Of fields once shackled, of dreams turned cold. With each strum of her guitar’s embrace, She gave the silenced a sacred space. Oh, mother of folk, with wisdom vast, A bridge to the future, a hymn to the past. Your songs were rivers, deep and wide, Healing the scars of a wounded tide. In every lyric, a call to rise, To seek the truth beneath weary skies. Your voice, a thunder, a tender plea, A whisper of hope, of what could be. Through marches and struggle, your spirit led, Singing of justice where courage tread. From Selma's streets to freedom's fight, You carried the dream into the light. Odetta, the soul of folk, still you sing, In hearts that rise, in freedom’s ring. Your legacy shines, a guiding star, Forever reminding us who w...