New York City by Ramya Ramana
New York City: Dedicated to Mayor Bill De Blasio A constellated skyscraper, moving gracefully to jazz beat,
Finding the Gil Scott Heron in her footwork.
Gripping the street lights like an eclipse of hymnals.
This, is home.
The lost voices, the heart’s devotion to beat and pulse, slow dancing kernels.
Home to hustle. Home to work hard, dream harder.
Home to move in silence- let success shatter the glass of hostage echoes.
New York City- not lights, not Broadway, not time square,
It is single mother donating her last meals worth of money to church-
It is the faith in the heart that makes a dead dream worth resurrecting.
It is coffee colored children playing hopscotch on what is left of a sidewalk.
It is chalk outlined, colonized map on a street as dark as the bones of the dead.
This, we call holy. This we call tough skin. Thick boned.
This is New York.
We will no longer stay silent to this classism.
No more brownstones and brown skin playing tug of war with the pregnant air
Hovering over them like an aura of lost children.
No more colored boy robbed off their innocence.
This city- always will be the foundation of this country.
We are root. We are backbone. We brown, we black, we yellow, we white, we young;
We collage of creatures stomping to be reminded of the mammal in us.
We, chance. We deserve. Us opportunity.
Us New Mayor. Us New beginning like dancing cocoons.
Us hope. Us fight. Us happen. Us love us some good human.
Us happy. We happy. We happy with change- it is a constant baptism to remind us of our holy.
We welcome. We family.
We, congratulate Mayor Bill De Blasio.
We are so very honored and pleased to have you.
And the congregation says, “Amen!”
- Ramya Ramana