Diaspora

. . For Equality

Facing the East,
I look upon the source of the Diaspora
Part of my identity
Formulation of being

. . American.

In that vista stand ghosts.
Keepers of lore,
Masters of knowledge,
Magi of healing.

. . They were Conquerers.

That distant land,
Cradles the rhythm of Life,
Ochre of desire from
Artist's divine palatte.

Planted in the womb of these soils,
A blended race was grown to
Become the national spine,
Supporting patriotic pride and genious.

The Diaspora
Spreads through Time and Eras,
The Rock bears witness to
Marches and struggles
Against multifoliate circumstances
Dotted with speckles of acceptance.
Appreciation of the excellence
Native to the individuals emerging
Like rare orchids in a cultural hot house.
Opportunity accorded as
Proved and requested,

. . In the American Way.

The race's contata is sung,
from decade to decade,
and century to century,
Different voices singing their parts
as the Diaspora extends

. . To maintain urgency and need.

I stand on Plymouth Rock
First step into the Melting Pot,
Testament of my heritage
Pride of my foundation,
Basis of my existence

. . In the Unification.