Sis, I Needed That
The world is going to shit, and with “Black Is King”, Queen Bey doing what she do best: rallying the people.
I like this image.
It fits the narrative in my head: imagine Beyoncé looking on the state of world affairs last year after working on The Lion King and the (appropriately named) accompanying album The Lion King: The Gift and saying:
“Hm, still not enough.”
I like to think she went to her prayer room, meditational fountain, or whereever the Muses come to whisper in her patient ears; where she sat and listened to the heart of the world and asked:
What do they need to hear?
I also like to imagine that when she got the answer she felt something deep, fearful and hurting. Being the Grand Alchemist she is, I believe she felt that wound and began right away to work on what her Ancestors told her was needed by us broken mortals: transformation, healing and light.
I’m sharing this with you because I am crying like a lil’ bitch baby right now; not because I’m some rabid-ass fan, unable to separate fantasy from reality (though given what I write, I’m sure it’s painfully clear I’m definitely a few fries short of a Happy Meal), but because what I needed most right now was light.
My parents are gone, my people are dying, the econony’s gone to shit and my unsinkable country is starting to look a whole lot like another behemoth thought to be untouchable.
But enter this love letter to my soul, filling my heart with color and story; applying spiritual traditions and mythological balm on my wounds; bathing me in imagery and sound that felt like she was channelling Gye Nyame themself. It was the hug and hand-holding session I needed, so I could break the fuck down.
I’m tired, but in the choral tones I heard:
I am without my earthly parents; but in a beautiful juxtaposition of a RGB American flag over the sounds of James Earl Jones silken paternal voice, I heard:
You are not alone
And I lost it when this honey toned woman, favorite of all the menfolk, took the time to adorn every dark skinned woman in the “brown-skinned girl” sequence — showing love and tenderness rarely given a chance to thrive between black women.
I can’t critique this piece, and I don’t think I ever will. Not because it is perfect and beyond reproach but because this shit spoke to my fucking soul and told me I was “the key to the kingdom”. How the fuck I’mma critique the battery in my back?
And with the hell going on outside, the idea of my Ancestors, Orisha and the Queen Bey telling me:
The sun and the moon bow before you…
I’m finna lay down; I am not ok and I got work to do in the morning.
Be your own king, let nobody come do your work.
Y’all pray for me.