BROWN

Brown like the earth, brown like the unlit sands of the untouched depths of the ocean floor.

Brown like the creaves of a thousand year old tree.

Brown like the iris of my own eyes.

Brown like the soils that birth the foods we at.

Brown like the earth, brown like the unlit sands of the untouched depths of the ocean floor.

Brown like the crevices of a thousand-year-old tree.

Brown like the iris of my own eyes.

Brown like the soils that birth the foods we eat.

Brown like my great grandmothers’ skin and the eagle feathers glistening on the mountain edge seeking out its prey.

I am brown but you see black. You see unworthy, ugly, uncouth; you see darkness. A darkness that disrupts the privileges you reek.

You see black and put me in a corner in hope that if you make life difficult enough, I will start to believe you.

Instead, I see hope.

I am hope.

I am the whites of the clouds and the sunlit streaks that gloss daybreak when the sun emerges from its slumber.

I am bright, oh what a sight as I lead me out of the unlit sands of the ocean of opportunities. To teach thee better, to be better and to create not only dark and light but bright, bold, new and, untold treasures of the brown folk.

Brown like the earth.

I am the beginning.