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I’m scared to raise you here where
a reed basket can’t deliver
an escape from the pain of your inheritance.
You’re your daddy and me combined–
a Filipina/Puerto Rican, Jamaican, Colombian;
a beautiful mix.
But what they’ll see first is your darkness,
a sight for them of a less-than them,
less than a man or a woman.
Now, in our home you will see this:
we bear Christ’s name above heritage,
but this means
you’ll wear not just one, but two targets
in this present darkness:
what they see immediately, then
what they see internally.
The first you can’t deny, and shouldn’t;
the second they’ll try but can’t truly deny,
but it can be compromised…
so even in darkness tonight,
my prayers plead for you
hidden in my dark belly
soon born to light
and this darkness
born dark
to little lights
born again (I pray):
dark to light
a dark child of light
hated by light children of darkness, yet
a light indestructible inside
can’t be consumed by the present darkness.
A light indestructible inside
is more precious than your hated,
wonderfully made dark skin.

A light indestructible inside, my child,
can’t be consumed by the present darkness.

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