you did not know you were Afrika <br /> <br />When you set out for Afrika <br />you did not know you were going. <br />Because <br />you did not know you were Afrika. <br />You did not know the Black continent <br />that had to be reached <br />was you. <br /> <br />I could not have told you then that some sun <br />would come, <br />somewhere over the road, <br />would come evoking the diamonds <br />of you, the Black continent-- <br />somewhere over the road. <br />You would not have believed my mouth. <br /> <br />When I told you, meeting you somewhere close <br />to the heat and youth of the road, <br />liking my loyalty, liking belief, <br />you smiled and you thanked me but very little believed me. <br /> <br />Here is some sun. Some. <br />Now off into the places rough to reach. <br />Though dry, though drowsy, all unwillingly a-wobble, <br />into the dissonant and dangerous crescendo. <br />Your work, that was done, to be done to be done to be done.<br /><br />Gwendolyn Brooks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-diaspora/
