I am undoing all that keeps my soul from prospering.
All that keeps me buried.
I am looking at the mirror to.
I know my soul.
I am like stars against the sky.
Like galaxies bouncing through space.
Becoming green as I pass through storms.
I know what stirs me.
I bow my heads in humility to know why.
Even all that holds my breath.
Every single thing I hold dear, seeks to rob me of my cares.
And if I fail.
If I fail to set my heart on fire or come close to deep waters.
Neither the fire nor the floods will engulf me.
Even the failure form part and not my whole story.
Contemplating your declaration that you alone know the plans, I am comforted by this calming thought: I know my soul.
I am slowly making sense of writing in verse. Using my own ear and taste, turning words that come into compositions that suit my soul. And Claude McKay, the first great poet of the Harlem Renaissance is my guide today. His book Harlem Shawdows has so many short sketches that resonate with my soul. I have reflected on one of them before for a post that I called ‘if we must live.’
But this one on ‘I know my soul,’ was perfect for today. Maybe it’s his vivid brief descriptions of life. Maybe it’s his insistence on pledging no allegiance to any master. Something always keeps me yearning for more with him and it feels alright with my soul. I am drawn to how he puts ideas and feelings into words that move me. Mr. Claude McKay was quick to remind anyone that he never studied poetry in the traditional way. He refused also to use patterns, images and words that would make people stamp him as either a classicist or a modernist. He was neither. Only better. His knowledge and style suits my soul. They way he chooses melodies and rhythms by instinct or favors words and figures which flow smoothly and harmoniously is like a balm for my mind. I am also drawn to his directness, his truthfulness and naturalness of expression. In fact, he knows my soul and my soul glows in his words.