I was cold. I didn’t know too much about The Fire Next Time (James Baldwin) or that it could be easily identified as the return of the spirit of the movement.
The presence of our ancestors to re-connect the seven sciences that we all represented.
I just know that of the several bonfires that appeared /I chose the one closest to my home. A few others had come to get warm.
We dared to stare down the center of this chemical process to identify what was causing the combustion. And nothing was there. Not with the naked eye at least. It was simply a fire and I was cold.
A day of being a critical thinker. Just to spend one night on a spirit filled preserved slave plantation in Mississippi. I wonder what the autonomous dialogue would be? What would the title of the article be? Take a ride atop the bone filled Atlantic Ocean and write a poem… write a song… Like James Baldwin, I just have this simple request for autonomous dialogue on white history from a black history perspective.