Poem by Najya Williams
Food is no luxury or gift
no tool of humbling destruction
food is a home of heritage
a reclamation call from dust to dust, bone to bone.
My hands have lived a thousand lives
turned a million stones
for in every crumb planted in my body
ancestors have found their way home.
The storms that saturate our existence
make us question our minds
are an invitation to quell the fire
climbing the top of our bloodline.
Listen to the soil
honor its fertility
life remains in our reach
a lingering taste of vitality.
The time has come
to own our destiny
and with each other
we can harvest infinitely.
The blades of our past ignorance
are here to stay
but the promise of a fuller belly
lingers in the vision of a brighter day.
Click on the file below to listen to Najya read her poem:
Born and raised in "Chocolate City," Najya Williams (she/her) is a poet, filmmaker, and performer. Her debut poetry chapbook, "Cotton," spoken word album, "mad black woman," and original short films are available online via her website, najyawilliams.com. Looking ahead, Najya remains committed to changing hearts and minds across the world, one word at a time.
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These poems were submitted for the 2020 WFD Poetry Competition