Marooned

Her life was born by the earth.

Her veins branched out within the deep brown of the soil

Flowing strong, they were grounded in the resounding gravity

Of the freedom they carried.

Her hands bore into the earth

And pumped life, through her veins, to her seed

The roots went deep – to her brown ancestry

And whispered, "We are free, we are free.

Before, our eyes were chained to the earth

Blind and spineless were we.

At the sound of the abeng, soil fell from our eyes

We looked at our skin and saw new roots underneath.

In our roots flowed freedom, not blood.

And freedom is a shade of maroon, not red –

Undiluted by the pale.

Then we planted ourselves in the earth

Weighted down by the freedom we carried."

From her seed came a fruit of the earth

A baby, whose eyes were the same deep brown as the soil.

As she rocked him, her hands felt the gravity

Of the sweet, sweet freedom she carried.

Just outside, someone lay close to the earth

Stealing the crops from the soil.

His skin, too, matched the brown of the soil.

When he saw her, he threw a stone from the earth

And burst the freedom she carried.

The death was borne by the earth.

At the sound of her cries, the veins let forth a flood

That stained the earth a deep maroon.