Who Told You? (A Poem from 'Savor Eternity')

"Biologically, race does not exist. Race-ISM is a
psychological construct." ~Toni Morrison
White and black cannot be found
in the ruins and valleys of a human face.
You’re the dust in a wrinkled rainbow,
whorled pallet of earth tones, 
ginger, sorrel, burnt sienna.

Who called you “white,”
that disdain for shadows,
color of the fear of falling
through the prism of contradiction?

You are not white, you are oak,
apple wood and dandelion.
Make wine of yourself.
Make a barrel of your bones.
Acquire the flavor of your ancestors.

Who called you “black,”
that abstraction of a laughing tear?
You are not black, you have sown
sunset in your cheek furrows.
You are banyan and mahogany,
kola nut and olive, cocoa bean of grief,
kinnikinnik of the sacred pipe.
You are the night.

Voracious love has dipped us both
in honey, meshed our dreams
in darkest cilia, netted our souls
like mushrooms in sweet loam,
the wild manure of one dragon.

Through innumerable pungent roots
the same juice bears us upward
into starlight.