Dear Blog, as Black History Month comes to an end…
I want to say this to you, to my people, the Black Butterflies, and Black Bees, and Black Hornets out there…
You know who you are, you know yourselves,
stand tall, stand proud, take a knee, take a bow, be strong, but whatever you do…
They came from the African coasts
from the Motherland…
from the belly of the seas, the depths of the ocean
Aunts and uncles, yours and mine.
See the furrowed brows?
Hear their anguished voices?
Listen to the wailing from the depths of their hearts;
the unborn, the children, the youth, the grown, the aged.
Their pain, oh, the pain!
I feel it, fresh as it were today.
Our wounds, still hurting from yesteryears,
…and fresh ones today cut deep
Our scars, never healing
Different, yet same.
The anguish in her furrowed brows
The cramps in his tired limbs
The cries from babes at the breast
The wailing from youth in pain
The torment that knows no end
Suffering and wondering, where is God?
Praying, asking, is this life?
Lives still in limbo
Thoughts still displaced
Hearts still bleeding
Minds still unknowing…questioning,
…wondering and wandering
Ashamed, confused, scared, angry, sad, dejected, unhappy but believing…
Today like always, we remember, we never forget.