Are we not our ancestors’ wildest dreams?

Their broken shackles crunch under our feet

as we keep moving forward.

Am I not my ancestors’ bravest wishes?

Born in the motherland

African soil between my toes.

It is June 19.

Africa weeps today.

Tears of relief.

Tears of pain.

She was there to hear her children 

as they were stolen

She heard them give back their names

as they were forced to turn their backs on entire identities.

She heard her children

as they relearned freedom. 

Africa weeps today.

She dances

she cries out

and she keeps her arms outstretched.

She waits for her children to return.

She will always be waiting.

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