When they try to knock us down, remember that we’re taller now.

Itchy blades of grass scratching at our ankles

When they tell us to bow down

We’ll hear their voices smaller now

They think we’re going to cooperate in our own oppression


Provoked to become all we were promised to be


Pushed to remember our own divinity


Held captive, reactive, pleading let us free.

Pause and remember, my freedom lies with me.

I longed towards feeling actualized until I came to see

The only one blocking the door to pastures green and sweet

Was me. It’s me, I’m begging for release. Let this soul free. Let her be! Let her free inside of me!

She longs to sing her melodies and dance in her divinity

Unlock the doors and leave her be!

Please stop this war and LET- HER- F R E E.

And when I race into my symphony bare feet on the grass. I’ll leave a trail of words to me, come join me free at last.

And it is in this field of ours, that we’ll build kingdoms fit for Kings and Queens. The Ancestors anoint us — we are the kin of Magic Beings. They guide our steps, they call us forth, we aren’t alone upon this path. And yet before we go henceforth, we must take time to heal our past. To claim our pain. To speak our truths. To know our worth. And trace our roots. To feel our rage. And use our words. To claim a space, for our rebirth.

Although at times I feel alone, I hear the whispers of the stars. They twinkle of this promised land.

Inside of us, and always ours.