Praise the gift of breath, for when I find myself fearing time, not completing the things I want to do before I choose to settle in life, my body is working almost as a separate being – reminding me that time is now, past is gone, the future isn’t certain. So as I’m stuck in my worries and anxieties somehow my body is patiently waiting for me to acknowledge that still it inhales, exhales, over and over again for me. Keeping me alive.
Praise empty spaces waiting to be filled with our thundering voices, for silence has waited for this very moment to hear the sounds that paint images into a mind that has almost forgotten what it’s like to imagine.
Praise our stories, repeated over and over again by our ancestors until it has been scribed into our veins, so that when we question where we come from, each beat of the heart is a calling, waiting for us to find ways to bring their spirits back to life.
Praise this paper, for I know damn well that I’m forgetful, but even in moments I find myself reminiscing of a painful past, I can allow my pen to do the bleeding for me.
Praise the power to speak, because Lord knows that violence is not the way to gain peace, but I’ll stab you with my words if it makes you listen.
-Jumakae
Thanks to Bonafide Rojas from The Bronx, NY for facilitating an awesome writing workshop. For those of you who have been curious about my whereabouts, I’m officially in Long Beach, CA doing work to build up Homeland Cultural Center: Manazar Gamboa Theater, a new community space intended for an underprivileged section of the neighborhood to gain access to a professional theater background. Running open mics and also helping to form another youth slam poetry team called DUENDE! to compete in Brave New Voices again. Yup, it’s been a busy past couple of months, but I am here and breathing. =) Breathe with me.
