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Went down to the river;
touched the stilled waters.
From the Diaspora of the ripples, I
Heard the echoes of screaming ancestors.
Felt their spirits riding river bank breezes.
Our souls mingled like the Water and the Earth.
Indeed, we are the people of the Water.
Indeed, we are the people of the Mud:
Ebony clods, scooped and spat into creation.
Over the rivers and seas we have spread. And
Now here we stand; sable souls searching shores;
Standing in the water; our spirits
Anchored deep in the stilled waters: Indeed
Our souls have known many
Rivers.
