Deborah Y. Harris
Published in

Deborah Y. Harris

Flowers for Colored Boys

Beautiful Boy, Marvelous Prince, Majestic King

Let your tears fall where they may. Beat upon your chest and let your screams challenge thunder and lightning. Rest your weary head upon me and rejuvenate your soul/rekindle your magic and might. Dance freely in fields of unspoken dreams. Drink from the Blue river of hope and gather life from sunsets that cast promise and glow upon your tomorrow. Defy your shackles of iron and levitate to the highest mountain. Wash your crown in the dew of heavens embrace. Adorn your steps with petals of sapphire, pearl, amethyst, and gold. Lay your self upon the soil that bore you. Consecrate the land with treasured rubies that flow from the wounds of war and rage. Tell us your story colored boy. Breathe life into the barren Earth and strike your fist upon the rock to shatter lies of unworthiness, brokenness and defeat. Tell us your story colored boy and guide us to paradise with fragrance and song upon your tongue. Tell us your story. Tell us your story of victory and glory.

Witnessing the destruction of the soul of black boys and men has plagued the minds, hearts and homes of our community for generations. Our men were broken and stripped of their dignity and value in and outside of the home. Enemies were taught to throw you away without a second thought and you yourselves were manipulated into self hate. It is truly a miracle and testament of God’s grace that our men are still standing and fighting for their lives. It is a testament of righteousness and glory that keeps the tree sturdy throughout all the storms. But even though the trunk may not bend, branches are likely to break upon themselves.

My heart aches as the breaking seems to increase with every unjust murder by hands of racist police, with every lock and cage of discrimination held by judges/jails/and jurors, with every lock of hair that is uprooted from its home because it refuses to conform and yearns to let its magic flow freely, and with every weapon you were taught to wield against your brother.

Beautiful colored boy I wish you to be free and to be released from enslavement. I do not wish to bring flowers to your grave…I wish to place them upon your head and bless you with songs of rapture as you take your rightful place in this kingdom.

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Social Justice Activist/Writer/Community Organizer

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