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Inking The Word In The Springtime
Of Peace and Hope
I, the poet that I am, can only be who
and whose I am; the African-American
Griot son whose fertile poetic mind’s womb
has been immaculately—eternally—impregnated
with a multiplicity of offspring of poetic wisdom
to be named and inked with the blood flow
experiences of self and those of my ancestors.
It is only from this perspective—as it is true for all
true poets—that I purposely am a chosen missioner
of The Most High; chosen to ink poly-rhythmic images
and metaphors of creation and the attendant circadian life
experiences of past and present generations who have
laid the building foundations for our future’s future.
Black and comely, I am. American and African, I am—
a deposited duality of perspective; no longer bound to straddle
the fence—perforce to seek a meeting of the twain between
the oppressed and oppressor. No, I and I must ink the truth as is,
irrespective of the color, life status or the source of dissemination
of artistic truth and messaging wisdom.
From my hued hyphenated perspective, I shall continue to word
the life experiences and expectations of my people’s past, present
and hoped future; to ink glorious terrestrial and cosmic life that Hughes
spoke of as “…living in relation to the vast rhythms of the universe
to which we are related…” through the crucified and resurrected
bond between ourselves and our blessed Savior.
Thus, must I and I, without apology, but with endowed
creative energy, continue to write of the sad and glorious
beauty; of the trials and tribulations and of the inherent
strengths, hopes and faith of our umbilical Ancestors
on the Mother continent and of those who survived past,
post and present “chattel” life here. Therefore, let I and I
in “…the springtime of peace and hope…” continue
to ink with pride and love—despite the journey’s many
rest stops—that beauty and glory of a people who epitomize
the essence of God’s redeeming grace. Finally, this is not
a sermonic litany but rather, a mere rhythmic nativity tapestry
of womb words from an immaculately pregnant poetic mind.
