JUBILEE

Like poets before me whose given names have grown thorns and pricked them, I’m reaching ungloved hands into bushes and flower beds, feeling around a tangle of stems and branches for roots I can cling to; fruit I can sink my teeth into and feel the sticky sweetness gloss my lips.

Like the conjure women of the swamps and rolling hills of my homeland, I’m looking for roots I can work with.

I’ve grown tired of imperial pet names. Here’s to names that ring with warmth, pulsing life in our throats! Let the names we callin this and every passing yearLet them be spells cast with the solemn hope of prayers.

Let them be songs sung to fill our bodies with fervor and joy. Let them stand as lions adorning the gates of our homes.

Let them fill our bodies like a good meal, a good night’s restany good thing that satisfies. Let them shout Jubilee!