THIS IS THE STORY OF A LITTLE BLACK GIRL (Blackwildgirl)
who knew she was a queen and, in her innocence, shared
her knowledge too soon. The world dethroned her, burying
her spirit, expecting to asphyxiate her. But the world didn’t
know that she was a seed. Germinating underground in the
bowels of the earth—almost suffocating—the seed miraculously
survives, nourished by nutrients submerged in composting
decay. Drinking from dew drops and snatching heat from
sunlight, the seed sustains herself, rooting and grasping on to
small grains of dirt offering their hands to her. With a fierce,
fiery, and feisty determination, she births herself from her seedcoat
womb, detangling from the weeds and the wily ways of
the world attempting to sabotage her divine destiny. Pushing
through the muck and the mire, bursting forth and rising up,
she announces her above-ground presence: her arms, like
branches, outstretched and her breasts, like buds, boldly baring
themselves. Her willow, palm-tree spine, bending but never
breaking, sways unassuaged in the glorious air of her reclaimed
throne. Regal, resurrected, and refusing to be denied her rightful
role as an African goddess, Blackwildgoddess blossoms and
blooms, radiating rays of love, joy, and hope for other seeds
on their journeys. Her journey begins with libations.