The other morning I woke up crying.
I had consumed a lot of media that day, my mind was racing and I was super emotional.
I had also listened to Tamika Mallory give her speech at a press conference in response to the murder of George Floyd. She made the comment, "...the land of the free for all - it has not been free and we are tired!" That part of her speech resonated with me. That morning I woke up, I felt hopeless. I felt like there was nothing I could do to help my people, so I cried.
Since then, I've regained my focus and I've put more energy into things I can do, versus trying to think of ways to heal the entire world.
But, in the midst of my tears I wrote this poem, hope you enjoy.
I look at my son.
I look at my husband.
I look at my daughters.
I rub the belly that carries unborn life and I weep!
My tears are no solution to the problem, but it’s all that I have to give right now.
My tears water the ground that my ancestors walked upon.
I can only hope my tears help to nurture the path of those who protest. The path of those who have the strength to do more because I’m tired!
I’m tired of the system that was built to fail us.
Tired of the solutions that are just bandaids to wounds that have been ripped open again and again.
I am tired!
So I weep.
My tears are salted with the rage of my people. They fall to the Earth to season the Movement.
I cry aloud so you can feel my energy.
I cry aloud because I can’t find the words to express my agony.
My tears are the voices of the hopeless.
The sound of the movement.
The pain of my people.
I pray that my tears would reach the Nile. That the Fertile Lands would root trees that bare fruit.
I pray that my tears runneth over the cup -that goodness and mercy should follow.
I pray that my tears would flood the streets of the Revolution and wash away the enemy.
I pray for the strength to do more than just weep, but I’m tired.