About the need to connect with your roots. |
Dad: I wanna know your dreams, The real you. I wanna know what you felt As a boy, What you saw when you Looked at the Moon. I wanna know how often You hugged your Mother, How often you talked to God. I wanna know from which ship Your people came to this land, How the branches of your Tree Took shape over generations. I wanna know your side of the story, When you saw me say goodbye, Where I took the wrong step. I wanna know if you could ever Forgive me, Ever see what I saw. If you could see the ropes Around my understanding, How perfectionism made mediocrity Devastating. That disappointment blinded me To the pearl beneath The scratched shell. And I see me as you… Maybe someday… Could I someday be there— Despite all my visions Of perfection? Could I end up stumbling though Life, Barely grasping goals And being cracked in the head With failure and wrong turns? So I guess I’m starting to see The man in the Mom, Starting to see the humanity In your neglect, The root in your fear. And I picture the boy In the red and black cowboy suit, The one with wonder in his eyes. The skinny, pale little boy Whose world was no bigger Than a plot on Patterson Drive, But with a soul deep enough To become a Pioneer, To shed the rules of Race, gender and religion, Who looked society in the face And went his own way, Who could have so easily Collected all the privilege as The Man, But chose instead to be The Mom— Even to young Brown children Who barely shared his features, And lived in an entirely different world. And I’m proud to have this blood Running through my own veins, Proud to pass on this blood, And the Wisdom that came with it. And I pray—someday We’ll know each other again Like when we nestled—together— In the womb of your bed And traveled the Solar System, Like when we walked the Moon-lit paths Of Milwood and The Square Sharing our hopes and dreams and fears, Like when we strolled every campground— Just the two of us Among rubber band frogs and whispering trees, Beaming flashlight beams On brilliant stars And keeping each other sane, That’s when I knew you not only as My Father and my Mother, But also—most truly— As my best friend. |