Beware, My Body And My

I Would Rediscover The Secret Of Great Communications And Great Combustions. I Would Say Storm. I Would Say River. I Would Say Tornado. I Would Say Leaf. I Would Say Tree. I Would Be Drenched By All Rains, Moistened By All Dews. I Would Roll Like Frenetic Blood On The Slow Current Of The Eye Of Words Turned Into Mad Horses Into Fresh Children Into Clots Into Curfew Into Vestiges Of Temples Into Precious Stones Remote Enough To Discourage Miners. Whoever Would Not Understand Me Would Not Understand Any Better The Roaring Of A Tiger.

Africa, Help Me To Go Home, Carry Me Like An Aged Child In Your Arms. Undress Me And Wash Me. Strip Me Of All Of These Garments, Strip Me As A Man Strips Off Dreams When The Dawn Comes. . . .

I Have A Different Idea Of A Universal. It Is Of A Universal Rich With All That Is Particular, Rich With All The Particulars There Are, The Deepening Of Each Particular, The Coexistence Of Them All.

I Am Talking About Societies Drained Of Their Essence, Cultures Trampled Underfoot, Institutions Undermined, Lands Confiscated, Religions Smashed, Magnificent Artistic Creations Destroyed, Extraordinary Possibilities Wiped Out.

And Let Me Die Suddenly, To Be Born Again In The Revelation Of Beauty....and The Revelation Of Beauty Is The Wisdom Of The Ancestors.