Articulate, hard, brilliant,
you hurled word upon word
from your fevered loom
till magic happened
and the world to which I could not relate
became my birthright -
fire hot and precious priceless
in my hands.
You were the philosopher/poet
so truly yourself
that you left me behind
reaching for the philosopher/poet in me.
You were the urban shaman
whose midnight radio voice
held me in trance
as you wove shockingly uncomfortable word shawls
for me to wear.
For two decades now,
I have traveled to places you had known and foraged.
I find your traces and they reassure me.
I carry you with me,
You are the ancestor
whose very face challenges me
to stand in righteous relation to life as lover;
to speak long and loud and true;
and to leave noticeable echoes.