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Mama Khandi

I write
But no one reads
Disappointment comes so easily
A kind of frustration, partly my pride
When eyes seem closed and so do minds

Harsh day bled with sun
Feeling agitated
A person came up, a woman, a lady
Who spoke about blessings coming her way
But how she struggles to get through day-by-day

I love words
She used words
Like art and vision
And she was a vision of black tradition
All beauty and color and words
I love words

She gave me hope
I gave her words; a book
She cried tears and didn’t know
She gave me more hope

When we embraced, people gave looks, double-takes
Both black and white
Wondering who we were to be there hugging
A young white girl in yuppie clothes
And a black queen in traditional African

You can stare
Go on, Stare
You’ll find the answer there

We were compliment and contrast
Right and wrong
Pain and comfort
She was Mama Khandi and I was her white child

In me
Where there is always a stormy sea
For a moment there was peace
And love
And I am glad that someone bear witness