Self-reflection. I look my body in the mirror Laugh a while, filled with gratitude Deep breath, and then I begin to look I see a black man, hardened by struggle, humbled by the future I see his self, a beauty so skin deep it would drown light and spit up melanin I see two trembling hands One grasping tightly onto hope the second, more worn than the first, trembles even harder, bleeding, holding onto a past, a history this young civilization cannot afford to forget. I look past wise hands and I see two arms Strong, carries the weight of two marrows, beyond, I see a chest with a heart that beats the competition. A voice box that would sun may weather if it were cold, Two lungs with a lions volume, rumbling still the deep echoes of a story Lungs trained to pull oxygen out of desperate air Echo, echo, echo. I look below and see a belly feels the whole world in there, all of her cries, all of her joy My belly is a furnace I see underneath a symbol of manhood to many, an image of destruction to even more, A tool I must carry responsibly, out of which will come seeds for planting in a time portal. I look below and see the long legs of a runner, muscular and black, knowing themselves with every step I see groundbreaking feet walked miles through things only devils and angels could stomach to know making strides Above my chest I see a neck, tall and straight stool for a headcornerstone on which a mouth with silver tongue and ruby words wise enough to hold itself back now, but deadly enough to strike fear into the fearful, to strike truth into the truthful I see eyes, red from too much light affront a mind, mind done grown legs and named itself a super computer a global memory bank backed up on Africas natural resources. I look at myself, at us. I realize that we are, I am; a soul. I close my eyes and know God. Jordon Veira, 2014.
Posted on: Wed, 15 Oct 2014 01:30:43 +0000