I walk along a path which is ever evolving with time.
There is no stopping that, for with time comes change.
I sojourned onwards basking in the light of life.
The sun is shining and the leaves are softly rustled by a gentle breeze.

I sojourn on a path.  The path of life. I look left my gaze fell upon a
a young girl under an apple tree her head is down.
She is wearing a lacy blue dress
she has two pig tails with two powdered blue ribbon tied around them,
she wore a lacy blue dress, and lacy white sock and patent leather black shoes.
I am compelled to go to her. I  bend down and ask her if she is all right.
She looks up at me with big black sorrowful doe eyes,
tears streaming down her face she replies.

“I represent the uprooted ones. The root was cut off form its source
causing many to be mentally lost.
I have so much to say, so much to say.
Who will give ear to hear.”
I looked at her little determined face with her black eyes and said “I will.
I will give ear to hear say on sister.”

She scrambled up to her feet and cleared her voice
looking very much the orator and spoke.
“I am not about the materialistic but indeed the realistic.
The real. uprooted time
to find your soil and take root again and grow, enough of the small patches,
but multitudes of batches.
Enough of the divide, lets stand together side by side.”

Sisters, I am not your enemy embrace me and accept me.
Don’t envy me or despise me.
Brothers protect me, cherish me, compliment me don’t neglect nor disrespect me.

Call me and I will be there this thing adhere.
Call me Sister, call me Mother, Queen Ester,
Call me Imani, Call me the queen of Angola, Nzinga but don’t call me a Ni__a.

The uprooted hails from many languages, and ebonics isn’t one. Lingala,
Arabic, Zulu and Swahili do you feel me?
I call to the uprooted, take root now and grow.