May You Never Exist to Learn my Language
by K. Brasfield
To my Children,
May you never exist to learn my language,
though it is beautiful when rolled off tongues.
May your ears never hear the bugle boy in the fields,
though it carries a catchy tune.
May I never feel you rot in my arms,
Though you could have been my young.
I will not lie,
I fear this world and what it would do to you,
Nevertheless, I do not refuse your creation out of fear.
I love this world,
You would too.
The world in which there is art and song,
poetry and tragedy,
me without you.
You are too much of my masterpiece
for me to let you be born a chain,
linking me to the women who bite off their feet for a chance to run.
But the blood has stilled my children.
Hardened and dried.
It is my path to inherit.
Can’t you see, without eyes, that my heart will always beat for you?
I am sorry, but I need every ounce of me to win this race and
YOU are not the finish line.
I love you,
And I hope you find a mother soon,
Her language rolls just as beautifully as mine.
Sincerely,
Free