Pathways

Pathways

I am the path,

to speak up with a deep voice that my parents built within me,

to speak towers in the world so that the city I'd build would depict my dreams in all it's elaborate works.

I'd speak in white,

savor the colors in my mind and yet present to you unfinished art.

I'd show you the sun,

then show you the sun makes shadows too, and in it's darkness I'd make paths for you,

so that you'd never know.

I am the path,

to carry secrets upon my back,

along this path,

with shoulders salted with tears from people I'd never truly known.

Like shadows they'd come and they'd gone,

and I didn't see the footprints they'd left.

Did I cross their paths too and not leave them footprints as well?

I wonder,

if at least I'd made them feel safe.

I'd show you art,

and not just in the words I speak,

I'd portray them in simple acts with God given hands you'd see,

that I'd make my path.

From dust my warrior skin molded with ash,

darkened soot upon a body inflamed,

ignited by words that I spoke to myself to create something new.

Let this burned path breed my africaness,

from previous lives lived oppressed,

to create this path,

that I find myself upon,

alone I walk,

haunted by my words,

lies,

choices made in doubt,

I'm here,

along this path,

that I never clearly saw.

06/01/19✅