My People. My People.
How beautiful and sacred you are.
My People!
In the eyes of My People
     I see oceans overflowing their boundaries
     with your tears.
In the hearts of My People
     I feel the hurt and pain from countless generations
     of unprovoked brutality.
In the smiles of My People
     I see weariness from shouldering the weight
     of the deceit and illusions.
     of the devil's deplorable chronicle of our legacy
In the Blackness of your skin.
     I see all that ever was, all that is, and all that is to be.
My People -
     first born of the earth
     you have not lost your greatness
     just look beyond the centuries of deceptions
     and see yourself in the inception of time itself.
My People -
     it is you, it has always been you - goddess and gods
     developers of languages and writing, mathematics and science
     of every persuasion, music, dance and art, governments and 
     societies that flourished in truth and justice, agriculture and
     architecture, teachers of health and healing, beauty and design,
     spirituality, religion, and the list is endless
     as you are without end.
My People -
     even at your lowest vibration you are great
     as the world imitates you, especially those opposite you -
     the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you dress and sing,
     dance, and preach -
     your African features - from the Blackness of your skin to the
     kinky-ness of your hair, to the fullness of your lips, your femininity,
     your masculinity, YOU in all your grandeur.
My People -
     let us once again speak softly, walk gently, hear clearly, feel fully,
     and KNOW profoundly, the making of you, the Purpose of you.
My People -
I Adore You.
Peace, to My People.