When I was little,I found a piece
of scrap fake leopard fur
in a ditch
slightly visible under
a layer of melting spring ice
and thought
it was a warriors vest
sent to me from
the African gods
to give me strength.
I wore it everywhere
despite my mothers embarrassment
and coaxing
to please, not wear it in public!
It had magic and
in becoming "lion-hearted"
I rode imaginary zebras
and ran as fast as the cheetahs
to the power lines
which I called South Africa.
That was the beginning
of my inner native,
my African self
oddly, I knew everything
about the continent early on
the names and location
of each country and its capital
and what animals lived where
so in my blood
and heart
that African music
or just the word Africa
spoken out loud
makes me weepy.
What is it about a place
never actually visited that pulls
and calls our name?
Reincarnation, unspoken spirits?
Some unforgotten ancestral guidance?
A couple years ago,
I got my spots,
a tattoo on my ankle
my warriors' mark
and when I need a vest of strength
I pull out something with
animal print on it
for my warrior wear
and I walk with lions again!
Pam Piper Rain
Artwork by Pam Reinke
