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.