quiet moments of the night, beneath the shimmering glow of the moon, I find myself enveloped in a sense of longing, a yearning to reconnect with the roots that bind me to the earth. As an Afro-Indigenous soul, I am a child of two worlds, yet I feel the weight of disconnection pressing upon my heart.

The wind whispers secrets to me, carrying echoes of ancestors long gone, their voices mingling with the rustle of leaves and the song of the night. I listen intently, eager to learn the stories of those who came before me, to understand the wisdom they left behind and the legacy they entrusted to my care.

But in the midst of this longing, I feel a sense of displacement, as if I am adrift in a sea of unfamiliarity, searching for the shore of belonging. I ache to reclaim the traditions and customs that have been lost to time, to honor the heritage that courses through my veins like a river of memories.

And so, I turn my gaze to the moon, seeking solace in its gentle radiance, knowing that it too has witnessed the struggles of my ancestors and the triumphs of their spirit. In its luminous embrace, I find the courage to embark on a journey of rediscovery, to chart a course back to the roots from which I have been severed.

For in the quiet of the night, when the world falls silent and the stars shine bright, I find the courage to reconnect with the land that bore me and the people who came before. And though the path may be long and winding, I walk it with determination, guided by the whispers of my ancestors and the gentle caress of the wind.