Indigo Children poetry by R. SHAWNTEZ JACKSON Kissed coals of the sun melanated magic bringers walking starlight Forrest fires on simmer These are the indigo children Stolen from their birth rights a kiln where Phoenixes rise from death Used for merchandise, Chattel. But the indigo children cry prayers filled with spilled blood of the lost, a journey held in their bone marrow. A truth kept close by their traumas. Skin black like the cool night's whispers. They are historic, survivors, Kings & Queens, majesty. You can't separate the jewel from the compounded escalation of minerals pressed into alchemy's womb. Indigo children are the greatest alloy of perseverance & theurgy alive.
45
