Baldwin encapsulates

I sit listening to Baldwin

hearing him speak of the lost American soul

of the Negro few and the majority, whew

who believe and stink-think their color is right

their White is right out of the mind of God

I sit list'ning like a lost child

searching about for the door 

to break through to freedom of some sort

to another religion of land where all might be right

I sit in my ageing age, staring 

into the ancient journey of the Afro race

of our trekking toward some ground of freedom

to some place we'd find ourselves free

I sit and look at us as we grovel along

as we kill each other and support with arms

as we lean into the future with tears racing down our backs

and our eyes attempt a smile that only death will bring

I sit waiting longing empty-prying and applying

tired from the journeys the struggles from family freight

and family gain and mourning and hate 

and all dysfunctions of our mates

I wait for sweet-life to arrive 

knowing there we'll be free

freer than our imaginations-care breathe and long

where brother/sisterhood is one for sure

with all who harmed us and all who loved

with the gods of our making and the God that's LOVE

I await sitting sitting-sitting sitting-still

staring into the Now that is forever to begin

to begin begin-again in the NOW what will never end