Will and Testament

if i am next to go,

don’t remember me by the words

i cried at my lynching.

remember me this way:

a heart that was ever expanding,

a mind that was thirsting for more,

a voice that was used with discernment,

a spirit that was gentle and warm.

remember my bald head,

that too-big smile,

and these small hands, forever holding the world.

remember the freedom i felt with a basketball,

the wonder i’d find in a book,

the peace i found on the mat,

and the things i’d tell you, courageously,

even as my voice shook.

but mostly,

don’t remember me by the words 

i cried at my lynching, alone.

but all the ones i said before.

they are my testament.

my story.

the seeds i’m planting,

now. today.

in case

i am next to go.