Indigenous Sorrows

I am lost, my identity has been taken from me because of slavery, I lie here wide awake with insomnia, analyzing myself. A glass of Clover diary fresh milk with a teaspoon of honey should pat the insomnia to a sleep state.

I finally fall into a deep slumber, I hear your voice, oh grandfather, I take your hand & we walk through the Green pastures of Sugar cane that my ancestors planted. There before me I see a beautiful woman, she looks battered & malnourished, she’s on her knees, harvesting potatoes in the blistering sun, she digs up a potato.

As she holds her back & arise, she turns around with the look of pain on her face, she’s highly pregnant.

She‘s about to give birth, I ask my grandfather, “what should we do grandfather?”He says, “this is the legend of our people my child, I am showing you the truth.”

She gives birth alone in the green garden, the baby looks like Master, this is the rainbow child, a blessing out of rape, war & slavery.

I wake up, I brew with anger & rage, how can human beings treat others in such a way, what made whites so superior that they felt the need to enslave my people, invade our lands, rape our women.

I jig to the rhythm & drums as I express my anger in dance with the company of my ancestors, Legends performed & shown through dance. I am the Rainbow child.