My people,
beautiful African people,
multi-hued as the rainbows of the spring,
shining black gold, sweet to the eye
as a summer's sunset,
is my people,
jewel of the hemisphere.
My people,
creative and fruitful,
Africa's gift to the West
is my people,
the war booty of wars yet to cease,
whose blood is the fuel that feeds
the economy,
whose breath is the life, of cultural life
-- is my people.
Amber yellow, brown mahogany, black ivory
is my people,
the wealth of Americas,
whose ghosts still dance in the pillars
of the slave mansions,
whose soul knows no bounds.
My people,
Black gold,
America's gold
shining brighter than the mid-day sun.
Black gold
is America's gold,
is my people - jewel of the
hemisphere.
*This poem appeared in the April 1981 issue of the Sakura Review the Literary Magazine of the International House in New York.