Your Heritage’s Echo

Poem by Ashley Moyo


There are days you will find your lineage in your speech
Days they will Dance bare footed on your tongue till the aftertaste of your village weavers your speech 
I am
My surname is …
These were the blanks our four fathers yearned-for
Trailed the blazing sun in animal skin, seeking an identity big enough to morph into a footprint
leading their future generation into a never-ending trail of  
Heritage 

I am a child born of soil 
Bones strengthened by the labour and Believes of my past bothers 
Packed into a bag pack then, handed down to me  
Heavy
In it you will find clicks to names that undress colonisation 
Find mothers spiced tales that sailed far east, within each ending, you are left preserved till the next 
But within the corner left pocket, you will find your fist 
unclench it-
for it’s a map back Home 

Heritage is understanding you are North, South, East and west  
A compass –
waiting to be sent off into the lost and be found within the arms of new discoveries
passing down to new life
Dear child born of the soil
Do not fear
Untangle your tongue in ululation 
For you got a lineage,
Me 
Echoing your greatness.

 

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