BLACK AMERICANS

Do not aspire to their excess. Balancing on gnarled branches, Reaching for the sunlit canopy

That has borne nothing But money for years.

Climb back down Into our uplifted hands, That they may lower, As we rise from bent knee

To cautiously embrace you.

Squeezing your cheeks close Against our own. We shudder.

The scent of filtered sun baked into your skin.

We have come too far For you

To get so close. Saved only by sentinel voices,

Sent up by sages Dried up on unfamiliar shores.

How arrogant you were To believe

A golden canopy Could be as vast as the sky. Impervious

To hushed blessings Whispered baptisms.

We ran to the forest So you could dream bigger Than boats And Big Houses. Dream of something yours.

Even if that means today We break ground

For seeds we’ll never see, Shaken from heights We’ll never reach.