I, Too, Have My Roots Poem by Leonard Dabydeen

My navel-string is attached to the Caribbean
I, too, have my roots
with coastland raindrops anointing my soul
only English-speaking country
juxtaposed to watch the Atlantic
sometimes on the tip of Mount Roraima
I'd listen like an Arawak
to the winding rush of the Amazon river
pointing my arrow to catch a meal
hearing the cry of the mighty Kaieteur
wondering why they did not see
my Eldorado in broad day-light
my long-tenured city of gold
must be for sure they were lost
in the medley of tunes emanating endlessly
from the rainforest
chirping of birds,
monkeys swinging on tree tops
like nature's Tarzan,
toucans and rainbow- colored parrots
esoteric in flight
and alligators parading on mud-banks
and tiger-cats rushing in leaps and bounds
but never, never a sound of a quake
sometimes a tremor is like a drizzle
but more like a forgotten dream
yet, I too, walked a mile or more
for water to drink
lit a candle when there was no light
slept in a canoe with eyes wide open
waiting for New Brunswick sardine
and no-name bags of flour
to make a meal
like a burrowed contraband
you cannot erase this memory
even if I visit my country
six feet below sea level
so let me hold your hand, my friend
and walk in faith and hope
through rubbles of Port-au-Prince
we shall not witness God, I pray,
sitting on the highest mountain-peak
shouting: Let my people perish.