Beautiful Black Faceless Son of mine

Tree of Life

Beautiful Sunset

Or maybe just a colorful sky

But the colors bleed into the ground

Not many leaves on this tree, but strong roots

But these roots are above ground exposed to the world

Which means they are not safe from outside forces I cannot control

Not many limbs on these trees

Not much external support

But am I even willing or trusting enough to accept it when and if it is offered?

The whole in this trunk of the tree is an eye

So much vision

Not always good

To the past

To the present

To the future

To the abyss of possibilities of what ifs and what still can be

No face but every face

No one cares about all that makes up his ethnicity

The intersectionality of all that make up his identities

Because all they see is Black

No one cares

Because he fits the description

And that’s all that matters

How can I go back to this moment of looking at a beautiful Gullah painting

When my heart is painted with nothing but worry, anxiety, stress

About this Beautiful Black Faceless Son of mine