Page 27 - North Star Literary & Art Magazine

Dear Ancestral Abode
Ashleigh Barcomb
Every day and night in this brief life,
I’ve seen the stars pointing towards your direction:
A haven of trees, calm rivers, and the singing birds,
I visualize Africans in flower dresses and robes
With moonlight dark-colored skin; illuminating the shadows away.
The shadows with whips and vigorous words;
Enervating our intelligence, our importance, and our lives. They stand fiercely tall at day and dwell into the night.
We conceal ourselves away in a cold shed of misery,
The freezing wooden walls of a reminder- we are property.
Every night, I hear your spirits calling to thee.
In my dreams, they escort me to an Elysium.
Dancing fireflies lighting up the soothing river;
The water cleanses the blindness and wounds of white man’s ignorance. Even thus far, I can use their essence as my guide.
I may have not visited you, nor know your name; however, Deep in my mind, I know where to go.
Sagacity replaces the blight-
As I return to books and knowledge,
Despite the forbiddance of intelligence for my people.
After a day of ten lashes, the guides told me:
“We control the power of nature,” before a raven silenced the slave driver. No matter how long the exodus takes, I shall join them;
We shall be together again, alone and free.
I missed your trees, the flowers, the streams, and the gentle breeze of peace.
When the dawn of spring blossoms,
O spirits, bless me with the flight of birds.
I will soar to the sky, no matter how many want to chain me down! The angels of the night will guide me home;
To you, my ancestral abode.
Love, Imani Ode
NORTH STAR 25