What I Don’t See

I see as they each kneel,

Bending their knees before the great elephant.

I see as they each speak,

Listening for the dark painting’s response.

 

I see as they each spoon

Large lumps of lukewarm, light powder,

That smells of love, life and licking my lips,

Next to flat, brown sheets that puff, then “pop” as I puncture the top.

 

I see as they each watch me closely,

Violently throwing at me their impression of my color,

Questioning my walk, criticizing my talk, asking

Why are you here?  Who do you think you are?

 

I see as I answer myself this question:

That I am a flying eagle, traveling the distance;

That I will be the flag flying assertively above their heads;

That I will never be the grass beneath a herd of wildebeest.

 

No.  I taste the righteousness and declaration

Of my sovereignty, uniqueness and power.

I hear the new ideas and thoughts and realize

That home is within me, not without me.

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