CXLIX (149) Sankofa

Don’t look back,

Unless you’re stepping back to go forward.

The path changes with every step.

Tread marks new and old,

Mean new roads.

They may look the same,

They may feel very familiar.

The old heads are still walking these halls,

Maybe somebody else will be writing in this very spot, at this very time, in 50 years.

What if that was me?

The old man version.

Who will I be tomorrow, who am I today?

There’s rain falling in Bushwick tonight.

I come from the rain city,

Home of The Storm,

The airspace of the Seahawks.

Seattle.

My old home.

But my home, the place that I grew up, doesn’t exist anymore.

It’s the same, but not the same,

They be acting brand new,

And I’m feeling my age,

An old youngin.’

Wonderin’ why I haven’t started to fly,

Unable to trust that my wings will take it from here.

I keep forgetting who I am,

And why I came here.

Sankofa: an African Proverb from the Akan people: “it is not taboo to go back and fetch what you forgot”.