This poem was written for Sundiata as part of the Sept. 22nd National Day of Poetic/Hip Hop Action for Sundiata Acoli.
Rooted in the Stars
By Walidah Imarisha
The airlock
Breathed open
And she stepped through.
Gravity regained its control
Over her.
The doors slid shut.
She unlatched the
Helmet of her
Space suit,
and ran her hand
Through her hair
The curls flattening
momentarily
then coiling up
Like willow trees
As she stepped out
Of the
Decompression chamber,
the
Scent of
Grass wet from the rain
Flooded her nostrils.
That’s right
She remembered
They had programmed
A summer shower
This morning,
For the new crop
Of okra.
As she walked
Through the
Neatly plowed fields
She reached out
To touch plants.
Tomato
Plaintains
Eggplant
cassava
So strange
she mused
that here
on a planet
light years away
from the earth
we take our hands
into the dirt
to grow that which
nourished our ancestors
so so long ago.
She squinted up
Into the blinding brilliance
Overhead.
From here
She could almost forget
There was no sun there
Just the curved slope
Of the dome
Lit up by
Modified extractions
Of bioluminescence.
Of course there was no
Sun over earth anymore
Either
Just an angry blistering
Orb hanging in the sky
Burning everything it touched
The arrogance
Of capital
She shook her head
Angrily
Corporations
Had taken control
Of all resources
Natural and unnatural
On the planet.
But they were not satisfied
They made plans
To seed the sun
Harness its power
For their
And only their purpose.
But she
The sun
Would not be
Enslave quietly
Like Sethe
In Toni Morrisson’s Beloved
The sun decided
She would rather kill
Her children
Than let them and her
Become someone’s property.
And so the sun
exploded
the woman raised her hand
Over her face
Blocking the light.
So many gone
Her heart sobbed
So much loss
The mind cannot begin
To fathom.
They were Lauren Olamina
And the walls
had fallen.
But she and others
Had been ready
Read the signs
Written in newspapers
Graffitied on walls
Intoned through bone
Sung in dreams of plantations
All that you touch
You change
All that you change
Changes you
They had seen the signs
And they were ready.
For years
She computed
Through the night
Laboring
To bring to life
This biodome.
This haven.
This home.
The theory
Danced in her mind
Like a Yoruba priestess
Calling forth
Ancestors to give strength
That this monumental task
might be completed on time.
One ancestor in particular
Felt everpresent
Especially through
Those final desperate days
She had found
A hidden entry
about him online
Before the
One Government
silenced the internet
cut out its tongue.
She read for hours
About his life
In what used to be America
Black in Texas
During the first Great Depression
A death sentence
The nation slavered to fulfill.
And yet
he survived
Became a mathematician
Worked for
Now defunct NASA
(sold off in pieces
to the highest bidder).
At a time when computers
Were in their infancy
So large they took up entire rooms –
Rather than being
Sub processor chips
Implanted behind the ear.
She had access to more gigs
When she was asleep offline
Than he had in the entire program.
And yet he struggled on
uncovered the numbers
Painstakingly eased them
Into the correct place.
His numbers
Fractal
Reflections of a vast whole
spinning
Wrapped around
The ancient space shuttle
Opened the door
Cushioned the first
Human foot to touch ground
Beyond the reach of earth.
But propelling them
Into the stars
Was not enough for him.
He knew space
Was no escape
The pain of today
Would be transmitted
A sickness infecting everything it touched.
So he went to work
Cutting out that sickness
In the community
In the people
In one child at a time.
He labored tirelessly
In love
Next to people
Who were really panthers
As they held back
Waves of death
Carving out enough space
To build a future.
But he was
Eventually
captured
Ensnared by a system
Too diseased for any cure.
She stared at a picture of him
His skin
Dusky cinnamon
The same color as hers.
A smile so wide
It seemed to traverse
Solar systems
Strong hands
To shape constellations.
When one of her
Comrades
Came to the safe house
Late at night
He asked why the picture
Of this man
Watched over her,
The face of
A stranger
who died
What seemed like eons ago
This picture
She told him
Has everything we need in it.
If you can’t see it,
Look closer.
She had finally
Passed through
The fields.
She reached the north wall
Of the biodome,
and rested her cheek
On the porthole
Looked at what lay
Beyond.
Scarred rock
Barren and broken.
Further
The darkness of space
Sparkled
With stars thrown
And scattered wide
By some unseen hand.
And if she narrowed her eyes
She could see the outline
Of the ship
The ship she had dreamed of
Had bled to create.
The ship
named
Sundiata
Which had carried them
Here.
To this place.
This home.
This planet
called
Freedom.