Blog Archives

Saturday Morning Thoughts

Either you are..or you're not

Either you are..or you’re not

When someone ask you,
Who are you?
What will be the first words out of your mouth?
my name is …
I work at …
I’m a manager at …
I’m a lawyer,
a doctor,
a teacher,
I run a …
I do …
I’m a …
I am

When you ask yourself,
Who am I?”
What are the first words that come to your mind?
mother
father
Christian
Muslim
black man
gay woman
activist
student
failure
prisoner
work in progress
I’m a …
I am

When someone ask you
How would you describe yourself?
What will you say?
I’m tall
I’m short
I’m dark
I’m light
I have long hair
I’m skinny
I’m Cuban
I’m Indian
I’m West African
I’m American
I’m a poet
I’m a …
I am

When your time is over,
What will they say about you?
How will you be remembered?
What will your legacy be?
What mark will you leave?
What will be your story?

When your creator ask you,
What are you doing with the life I gave you?

Do you think you’ll still be able to hide behind your labels?
…Muslim
…Christian
…Hindu
…American
…Indian
…Black

Do you think you’ll still be able to speak about your surface
…gay woman
…student
…skinny
…tall
…long hair
…dark skin
…doctor
…lawyer
…poet

Do you think you’ll still be able to hide,
…from who you are?
…from what you were called to do?
…from what you were sent to be?
Do you think your words will matter,

Who are you?
What is your purpose?
Why are you here?

I Am…

Who Am I

Me

These days life is taking me further away from my affiliations and bringing me closer to my family, friends, and love. I’m starting to find that all of the labels provide little insight into who I am and even less value to me personally. Poet, Christian, Que Dog, Black Man, Manager, Engineer, Activist, American, or whatever else I’ve been called.

Who am I? I am a child of God trying to use the gifts God gave me to walk in the light and to be a blessing to everyone I come in contact with. I am an incomplete work of art being painted one stroke at a time. I am a traveler who hasn’t yet reached my destination, therefore my story is incomplete. I can not change what I’ve done or where I’ve been, but every second is a new stroke that leaves my portrait slightly more finished.

Who am I? We’ll have to wait and see what the portrait looks like when it’s complete. Even then, the interpretation will be debatable to everyone but the painter. Even then, only God will know what he intended me to be.

Who am I? I am not an artist, I am a piece of art in God’s collection of love.