i have come home

following invisible music

without land

after losing my name

my religion

hanging on to culture

like a tattered blanket

mended many times

to hold the stars i passed

under walking on the bottom

of the ocean talking to the bones

who pointed the way clearly

as soon as i could see i understood

remembered embarked arrived home

where i am enough and more

wrapped in the blanket i held onto

winds part for me in the storm

as my feet touch the ground of

diaspora everywhere in the nowhere

forever without boundaries

the forest the ocean the desert

the sky the wind the rain

the stars the sun the moon

the four directions and the seasons

the planet the galaxy the universe

resound with the fullness of me

overflowing after being pressed down

freed perfected imperfection in perpetual

motion moving into a

Mount Zion state of mind

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
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