What I Saw Today

Lorenzo T. Neal

I saw something today that almost took my breath away

I saw children. Beautiful black children alive and well.

I saw them swimming in the pool having fun with no cares in the world.

I heard them laughing. I saw them running, diving, and dunking.

I saw something.

I saw hope.

I saw a future.

I saw joy.

I didn’t see fear of someone snatching them away.

I didn’t hear the sounds of screaming as if running away from gun shots or violence.

I didn’t see future drop outs, or baby mamas and daddies.

I didn’t see a loss of direction or rejection because of the color of their skin.

I didn’t see the dark nights of the soul that breathed into them a reluctant hope for tomorrow

I didn’t see grieving mothers and fathers lost in the despair of death’s deception and decay.

I didn’t the flashing blue lights escorting the young black boys into the back seat of the cruiser for simply being young, slightly devious, and black.

I didn’t see politicians campaigning to promise a brighter tomorrow for their pocketbooks and continued neglect for everyone else.

I didn’t see the Trayvons of the world cascading into the bleakness of a world marred by tension and division because one’s skin is fairer than another.

I didn’t see white or black adults profiling children as they ran around with sagging swimming trunks saying they’d never amount to anything.

I didn’t see the preachers pimpin their prosperity with hopes of gaining fortune and fame.

No. I saw children being children.

I saw a tomorrow that says today and yesterday may be forgotten but not lost altogether.

I saw something that took my breath away.

I saw tomorrow today.