Gwendolyn Brooks

To The Diaspora

you did not know you were Afrika 

When you set out for Afrika 
you did not know you were going. 
Because 
you did not know you were Afrika. 
You did not know the Black continent 
that had to be reached 
was you. 

I could not have told you then that some sun 
would come, 
somewhere over the road, 
would come evoking the diamonds 
of you, the Black continent-- 
somewhere over the road. 
You would not have believed my mouth. 

When I told you, meeting you somewhere close 
to the heat and youth of the road, 
liking my loyalty, liking belief, 
you smiled and you thanked me but very little believed me. 

Here is some sun. Some. 
Now off into the places rough to reach. 
Though dry, though drowsy, all unwillingly a-wobble, 
into the dissonant and dangerous crescendo. 
Your work, that was done, to be done to be done to be done.