Midnight Flower
bloom while no one is watching and everyone will see
My recent visit to New York transcended previous tourist activities, gazing up at towering skyscrapers and savoring authentic New York pizza and cheesecake. Instead, it was punctuated by moments of awe in the Brooklyn Museum with its African art collection. I saw myself in the faces of statues and contemporary paintings. In NYC, I gained a deeper appreciation for Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ song, Empire State of Mind — “These streets will make you feel brand-new big lights will inspire you.” The Bronx has a slower pace and feels like an area to settle down and start a family.
Harlem is where the magic unfolded. Immersed in over a century of creative and literary genius, I walked among present and past giants who left their words and music behind to help us create new paths.
I was welcomed by locals with direct conversations and a willingness to offer assistance. They shared stories about the way things used to be and pointed out old buildings with old souls and new buildings standing on sites where the Savoy Ballroom once thrived.
There were no strangers in Harlem, just neighbors next door, down the street, and around the corner. It was here, amidst the undeniable pulse of talent and creativity, that I realized, either by choice or circumstance, that some flowers (talents) bloom in darkness while no one is watching but everyone will see. I was compelled to express my Harlem experience in a poem looking back in time.
Midnight Flower
In Harlem’s heart, ‘neath skies of gray,
1926, a chill-infused day.
Snowflakes tap a syncopated beat,
On streets where souls and happy feet meet.
Musicians, dancers, and writers bloom like midnight flowers,
Growing like giants in wintery showers.
Brownstones stand with stoic grace,
History etched in each snowflake’s trace.
Jazz notes linger in the mist,
A saxophone’s melancholy twist
The Cotton Club, Savoy, and Duke Ellington too,
A lover's kiss still crisp and new.
Streetlamps glow, a soft refrain,
Dancing shadows in Harlem’s reign.
Cobblestone alleys tell tales untold,
Of joyful faces, of stories bold.
Coats pulled tight, and fedoras down low,
In Harlem’s reign, triumphs flow.
A Harlem Renaissance, a resilient boom,
In the downpour, their spirit blooms.
Voices rise like thunder’s roar,
Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes soar.
On Lenox Avenue, I walked with Kings,
Dined with Silvia the Soul Food Queen,
All of which I am blessed to have seen.
In the heart of Harlem, our legacy occupies space,
Write it down and hold it in place,
Preserve the memories in blue and gold lace.
Cold winds whisper, “It’s your time now,”
Nothing less than exceptional will Harlem allow.
It doesn’t stop here, I have work to do,
the legacy of greatness insists that I become great too.
Harlem and its persuasive charm encouraged me to claim my place among my literary heroes. The soul of this remarkable neighborhood will forever inspire me. Thank you for reading.
