I have written elsewhere (here and here for instance) about Martin Luther King, Jr. Today, this poem from Mary Oliver, who is often regarded (dismissed) as a starry-eyed nature poet, offers as fitting a tribute to King and his prophetic witness as I know of.

Of The Empire

We will be known as a culture that feared death
and adored power, that tried to vanquish insecurity
for the few and cared little for the penury of the
many. We will be known as a culture that taught
and rewarded the amassing of things, that spoke
little if at all about the quality of life for
people (other people), for dogs, for rivers. All
the world, in our eyes, they will say, was a
commodity. And they will say that this structure
was held together politically, which it was, and
they will say also that our politics was no more
than an apparatus to accommodate the feelings of
the heart, and that the heart, in those days,
was small, and hard, and full of meanness.

Mary Oliver
Red Bird, p. 46