A Walk in the Redwoods—Not Alone/Red
by JAMINNIA R. STATES
in Spring 2017
Stephen Small-Warner, "Meteor Yolk," 2014
A walk in the redwoods—not alone
I smile at the sun now eyes closed, lips parted in pure joy.
My Ancestors smile back, regurgitating my glee, feeding it back to me.
A baby food salve for my Soul.
Soothing my aching heart.
<<You are not alone.>>
Rain turned mist turned rain turned clouds are burned away by the sun, having strayed too far from the group.
Sureness in silence.
Water dancing over hills
playing in nature’s band of sweet bird songs, clear crisp air, puffy breath clouds
shoes crunching and scattering rocks, steady breath a metronome both joining the fray.
A blue jay, drunk horn player, cutting through the rhythm
no scratches on the record, no one notices.
No one minds.
The redwoods pose unblinking, standing firm in their ancient wisdom
other trees bend and twist, ballerinas demanding to be seen.
<<These redwoods may be tall and wise, but girrrrl, I’m FLY!
Take my picture, don’t be shy!>>
I oblige, we take one together.
You are not alone. I see you,
decked out in moss, back bent, face to the sky.
Smiling at the Ancestors, resting on your roots.
You are not alone.
Red
where the pine trees loom tall,
and willow trees swoop low,
filtering the sun
fabricating eternal dusk
an ever present twilight
the thinnest of the veil
red
where the rich clay beside the running river
where we used to play, laugh, dance, sing
where we run to escape
red
what meaning did you have to my people, before the spilling of our blood?
our blood
in the river
in the rich red clay
turning rusty black in the air drying sun
twilight over, the veil withdrawn
A woman, however, has always known red to be blood
that blood is life
that blood is power
that blood is rich
adding depth
creating harmony and equilibrium
that blood creates life
blood is ransom
You have my DNA
my essence
my child
mothers
fathers
grandmothers
grandchildren
lineage
all in one drop
and you’ve run a river
to end blood lines
you’ve pillaged my ancestry
my blood
my life
my power
crossed us
to bind our fates together?
to weaken us?
to sicken us?
to kill us?
you kill yourselves
we multiply
we endure
to continue
to survive
to thrive
to love
to co-create with the God of our mothers and fathers
who put us here
who let us choose
this?
whose Infinite Wisdom
brings us back
you can’t kill us, if we’re in your blood.
We don’t die, yet how do we return?
Jaminnia R. States is fearlessly and wonderfully made, a delight in the eyes of God, adorable in the eyes of man. She is currently engaged in the fervent pursuit of truly living. As a graduate of both Howard University and Indiana University, she is sometimes a librarian. She is the managing editor of A Gathering Together. She mostly reads social media @kionispeaks.
