Black Is Beautiful

Black is beautiful:

a color stigmatized,

a shade realized,

deep in the depth of my eyes--

pupils dilate when wise

enough to see the style,

passion, love so wild,

of brothers, sisters, child--

people who I love and can show me the way to know the soul of me,

letting go of racist relatives who brainwashed the old me

in order to feel the rhythm of the sea in me.

No. I can't relate.

My skin is white, and

my way has been paved,

but who is to say that I can't repay

the black and brown people who built this country into what it is today?

No more quiet lies

that carry on to pretend we've already equalized

the labels and sins of my fathers and grandmothers

who made black into the "other"

who took from children and mothers.

It's not enough to go from here

and pretend we're all clear.

We need to go back

and we need to hear

the voices (not mine!)

take us back in time

STOP what we're doing and rewind

because reparations are due

and the old ones who hated now know like we do

because they went on and touched the other side

beyond the veil where ALL the Truth hides

and they can see from there

with remorse and real-knowing here and everywhere

that they were wrong.

And black is beautiful.