All Our Liberations
by Cheeraz Gormon
The beginning is beneath my feet
Soil soaked with blood, tears, sweat, screams and memory
I wonder— What grows from such a combination?
It feels like, I— we, are living amongst the harvest
Yet, I still wonder
Someone lied to us
Told us that our freedom cost blood
and we bleed, and worry as we watch
the vultures swoop in
devouring, displacing and detaching us in ways that can be seen and felt
through generations of bloodlines
By the grace of the Most High, we remember what it means to love,
how to tell the truth, and put ourselves and each other back together, again
cleaning each wound with care, and optimism
as we rise to face one another— whole
Recovering what has been erased
So the story— we,
may all live on, to tell it from our own lips
