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
