DESTINATION UNKOWN


I believe in
the laying on of
hands, speaking
in tongues, the
sexo-religiosity of
Jesus baptizing
little black boyz
that follow him like groupies, or
of Buddha holding court
under Bodhi trees
listening
to Nina
Simone sing about strange fruit.

we will rise together.

I throw shells, read
bones, chicken and other-wise, marks
in sands laid down by
flood waters and deft bony fingers. I
walk Dogon cliffs
searching stars for meaning.
this time we will be prepared.

a change gonna come-

and we all walk the
waters, this time
refusing to go down, this
time no
more long boat rides
-destinations unknown-
forcing us into
our own demise.

no more watery graves, this
time we
will bury our
dead, the ones left under the waves,
and the ones lost to
the tides. we will
propitiate Olokun with
rooster, gold, red
coral and deep blue cries
of hallelujahs.

and we walk
out of muddy
waters, hand-
in-hand, becoming
divinity,
walking ourselves
back home.