You call me black and point your fingers accusingly
As if that alone declared me a criminal conclusively
Black, like the dirt you scrape off the boots of a hard day’s work
And you head home leaving behind a grotesque cirque
But I wasn’t dirt or the scum of the earth
I come from a long line of good soil
Nourishing those around me who forever toil
to make a copper’s worth
My feet firmly planted in the realities of this world
like the roots of a great oak tree
whose branches reach toward the sky proclaiming world peace
Supporting the hummingbirds who fly with small wings
Whose determination is farther than you can ever see
Yeah you’ve cut down this great tree
Go and wash the speckled black dust off your wrists
Rest assured you’ve done your part
You played your role and hid in the comfort of your home
Thinking there’s one less of me to roam
Mother earth embraces me now
And the world disavows
Of your cowardly actions you hide from now
I’ve been absorbed by the earth
This is a moment of rebirth
An awakening in the rustling trees
Who are firmly planted in this reality
Whose branches reach for world peace
Despite the smoke and strong wind
Despite the axes that chop us down
You see I’m not just one tree
But a forest of a million more like me.
.
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© Sara Febles
This poem was inspired by the tragic event that occurred a year ago in Ferguson. I am re-posting it today because I turn on the news to find yet another young man or woman at the foot of police brutality, racial profiling, racism, and deeply ingrained ignorance. I am re-posting it today because, once again, society reveals how mercilessly it attacks victims of abuse instead of seeking an honest justice. I am re-posting this for all of you affected, though it’s not enough, may you find hope and strength in my words.
Photography by Aneta Evanova