Making waves
after Moonlight
Our ancestors and the ocean are one
their saltwater veins
bright against the dark blue
of their skin
as they wade through the pale
seaweed infested water
whipping against the meek shore
Like Frigatebird wings, we flap our arms
hoping to take flight
but get pulled down by the current instead
with gentle, unscathed hands
they hold us up
showing us how to kick our feet
when they press our bodies into dirt
concrete
car doors
when they drag us away in handcuffs
in body bags
how to hold our breath
when the tear gas threatens to burn our lungs
when they drown us with fire hoses
when they flood our towns our homes
how to stay afloat
when they kill our mothers
our fathers
our siblings
our cousins
our spirit
our faith
how to survive
when the enemy is the sheriff
the judge
the senator
the president
then they whisper the secret
to freedom in the blush-pink
seashell of our ear
before floating us back
to shore
Muse Mosaics 