I Am Every Ancestor’s Answered Prayer

By Milli Femme

I am every ancestor’s answered prayer.

The whisper that made it through the whip.

The seed that sprouted through the ship.

The song that crossed the ocean,

And found rhythm in my heartbeat.

When I look at my babies 

I see the dream fulfilled.

I hold them close, skin to skin,

And I remember

There was a time when mamas like me

Couldn’t even claim their children.

When “mine” was a dangerous word.

When lullabies were sung in code,

And goodbye came too soon.

They took babies from arms

That still smelled of milk and mourning.

They sold futures for profit,

And still…

We prayed.

Lord, we prayed.

For a day like this.

For a mother like me

Free enough to rock her babies

Without fear of an overseer’s footsteps.

So when I hug mine,

I hug for them too.

For the woman whose breasts ached empty and full congruently

Because her baby was gone.

For the mother who bit her lip to keep from screaming,

Because her silence meant survival.

For the ones who bled,

Who broke,

Who birthed us anyway.

And now look 

We're here.

We're thriving in the very soil meant to bury us.

We’re getting degrees in buildings built by hands

That never got to vote.

We’re sitting at tables

That our bloodlines were never supposed to reach.

And we’re eating well.

But don’t get us confused

The fight is no where near finished.

Rent’s too high, schools are underfunded,

Black women still dying while giving new life

And somehow,

They still expect us to smile through it.

But I do smile.

Not from ignorance

But from defiance.

Because every grin I wear

Is a holy reminder

That we survived the impossible.

See, my grandma used to say,

“We come from women who could make a way with half a breath.”

Women who braided hope into hair,

And sent messages down bloodlines

That read:

“Don’t you dare forget who you are.”

So when I walk,

I walk tall 

With the poise of a prayer that finally landed.

When I speak,

My tongue carries history and honey.

And when I rise,

I rise for the ones who couldn’t.

The ones who shouldn’t have had to.

The ones who made me possible.

The economy says we're still behind.

But, they can’t measure wealth like we do.

We've got love that doesn’t depreciate.

We've got faith that never forecloses.

We've got joy that multiplies on contact.

And when I tuck my babies in,

That’s generational equity right there.

I am the interest on my ancestors’ investment.

The return on their resilience.

The living, breathing receipt of their belief

That someday 

Somebody 

Would be free enough to dance again.

And here I am.

Dancing in daylight.

Singing over my children

With the same rhythm that carried them through chains.

Laughing loud 

Because silence was once survival,

But now it’s celebration.

I am every ancestor’s answered prayer.

Their hallelujah made flesh.

Their tomorrow turned today.

Their storm turned sunrise.

And when my babies ask,

“Mommy, why do you hold us so tightly?”

I tell them 

“Because once upon a time,

A mother just like me

Was forced to let go.

And I promise her,

Through every lifetime and lineage,

That if I ever got the chance…

I’d never let go again.”