Dreaming of Mother
A Poetry Moment
Ahhh…. So beautiful. My Dream. I went to bed in New York and woke up in Ghana! One day we will meet face to face and I will Lift my hands in Praise to the MotherLand. A kidnapped daughter returning to her Native Soil. Clap my hands together and land in Botswana! The Royal Kingdom of Benin. Nigeria My Love She beckons to me. Mama Mozambique I hear you calling my name!
My wings soar high across the Nile into Egypt Land of my Royal ancestors, Hatsheput, Tiye, and Nefertiti.
Who Were the Ancient Egyptians? They are us and we are them. We are all all Queendoms and Kingdoms of Africa!!
I see the long dark corridor which took me away. That dark ship ride on stormy seas bearing me to an untrue way in which I could no longer sing Creator’s grand melody. I can still hear the moans and groans of the weary, the silent rotting flesh of the dead. Some of cast into the ocean by pale pall bearers. Sanctified in oceans cold womb. For generations and generations I have longed to return. A cast away adrift in seas of detractors. My language, customs, traditions,rites and religion torn from me I recast myself yet never forgot my true self. Throwing off my shackles to be reborn. Warrior Queen reigns over distant shores. Curly kinky tendrils carry me upward off to regal shores.
My cousins sit along African shores awaiting my return.
Other genetic ancestors Navajo, Hopi, Arapaho and Sioux bid me stay, pay homage to our Ancient Americas and dwell among them but I could not. So I Blessed them all and began the long arduous journey homeward. This time No North Star for me only galaxies and universes enveloping me inside the womb of my first Mother.
Don’t wake me up because I’m going home. I’m going home. Five thousand years forward into the past. I’m going home.
Swing Low Sweet Chariot – Fisk Jubilee Singers (1909)