Undeniable (Hour 19, #7)

 

I am born of Africa

Of Cherokee, Choctaw and Europe

(The last unclaimed)

 

Fire dancers chant in sacred tones around the fire

Ushering in healing,

Laboring all night if necessary,

Like those before them

 

Some say I am no daughter of Africa,

The blood diluted, tainted

No longer recognizable by the Motherland,

Who bore me

 

But this I know

My bones carry the trauma of the ancestors

And when the drums sound, my blood echoes its rhythms

Our sacred text says the blood speaks

Might not our blood carry the memories of the ancestors as well?

 

Braided through time, generations of healers

Daughters of different fathers

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