A Letter to My African People

I (Grandmother)
To find East, sail West. Columbus,
with his head-shaking epiphanies
was caught in another conundrum. Columbus?
Shake head. Columbus who?
Mama used to say all things created twice.
Never understood, till now,
looking back. Hail Mary full of grace
Genocide wears the mask of
Race. Shame. Deceit. Lies half
Truths. African tribes at war.
I never expected my brother to sell me.
Or my friend’s sneer.
Had we known, we would have played nice.
Offered forgiveness. Sought redress.

II (Mother)
We were dragged aboard ships.
Waters rocked us. “Stop, turn back,”
they bellowed. But no one heeded. My child,
I tried to spare you.
Forgive me. A bowl?
Was that your life’s
worth? Death, our only reprieve.
Columbus, peddler of conversion:
whip or cross; which would endure?
Dance sister, like you hear
music and want to live.
Ease into it. Clap.
What is the life of a
negro worth?

III (Great-great-great grand daughter)
Stones press at your heels,
yet the ground is soft.
Eyes glued to the banana trees, your mouth
waters. You suppress
a groan, turn and awaken to
the hummingbird’s call.
“Do you remember the drums, the dress
and the dance?” they whisper,
“For you are more than this.” Eyes open.
Uncertain, chains loosened in 1834
severed four years later. Arms akimbo, you danced.
Now, move forward.
Let them old spirits go.
Hush. Find fulfillment.

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Google Search Image

Advertisements

One thought on “A Letter to My African People

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s