Estratto da Midnight Mass
Bramo la simultaneità, e discernere dal caos all'ordine l'autentico volto che mai potrà specchiarsi.
(Sometimes I wonder: What to say to you now in the soft afternoon air as you hold us all in a single death?) I say— Where is your fire? I say— Where is your fire? You got to find it and pass it on. You got to find it and pass it on from you to me from me to her from her to him from the son to the father from the brother to the sister from the daughter to the mother from the mother to the child. Where is your fire? I say where is your fire? Can’t you smell it coming out of our past? The fire of living…not dying The fire of loving…not killing The fire of Blackness…not gangster shadows. Where is our beautiful fire that gave light to the world? The fire of pyramids; The fire that burned through the holes of slaveships and made us breathe; The fire that made guts into chitterlings; The fire that took rhythms and made jazz; The fire of sit-ins and marches that made us jump boundaries and barriers; The fire that took street talk sounds and made righteous imhotep raps. Where is your fire, the torch of life full of Nzingha and Nat Turner and Garvey and DuBois and Fannie Lou Hamer and Martin and Malcolm and Mandela. Sister/Sistah Brother/Brotha Come/Come CATCH YOUR FIRE…DON’T KILL HOLD YOUR FIRE…DON’T KILL
LEARN YOUR FIRE…DON’T KILL BE THE FIRE…DON’T KILL Catch the fire and burn with eyes that see our souls: WALKING. SINGING. BUILDING. LAUGHING. LEARNING. LOVING. TEACHING. BEING. Hey. Brother/Brotha. Sister/Sista. Here is my hand. Catch the fire…and live. live. livelivelive. livelivelive. live. live. (Sonia Sanchez) clip by Lovecraft Country