I keep coming home to the fact that we aren’t alone. 

That our truths, our actions, our dreams, are carried on the waves of those who came before us. 

I keep coming home to the love in my heart and the fire it wields. 

I keep coming home to the voice of my spirit, the call of my Ancestors, the love that is life. 

I keep coming home to the fact that our power exists entirely in and of us. 

It is reliant on nothing. 

It wants for nothing. 

It simply is and simply remains

Available for our discovery

Available for our direction

Eager to support us

In the journey home to ourselves.

So as much as I’m triggered 

I can’t help but smile 

With the knowing 

Of what’s been awakened. 

So as much as I’m hurting

I can’t help but smile 

With the knowing

Of what’s still to come

As we further align

With exactly who we are. 

Click here to read “Fields of our Freedom” (the poem this image draws from).

Image texts read:

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

Smile

Provoked to become all we were promised to be

_Smile _

Pushed to remember our own divinity

_Smile _