St. Agnes , Patron Saint of Helping Hands [Those Who Are the Least of Those Amongst Us]

for Agnes Philomena Wade Reneau  [Jan. 23, 1931-Nov. 1, 2023]

. . . a myriad of rain/forest birdsong
swirling through swaths of nimbo/cumulous gong

You were born on a tropical winter’s day in 1931 , as generous in spirit
as the unexpected gift at an unexpected moment , like Mighty Mouse or dynamite

. The generations of family  [the begotten beget the begot]  and Time
, and spaces that shaped you , like the Law
of Conservation of Energy , from potential to kinetic , is energy that cannot
be created , nor destroyed—but only be-ing—transformed

. You come from Obeah gri/gri conjure a hex under the oppressor’s front steps , from
an equatorial shoreline lapping cobblestone streets overrun with blue crabs , ready
-made fodder for soup . From panadas stuffed with manta ray or shark meat
and Johnny cakes . You come from Charlie Price rats that can gnaw through
a newborn baby’s crib . You come from women so beautiful , high yella’ to blue-Black
, will bring a strong man to his knees , or raise the Holy Ghost
like First Baptist come Sunday

. My mother taught me to never
lie to a woman and my father
told me that a woman will leave
you quick if you bore her to tears

. You come from rain like bullets onto the tin roofs in Woodville’s farm labor camp
. You come from plantation lullabies taught to children about the white folk’s virus
that kills with ass/umptions and stereo/type and generations of a pseudo/science of
e-race-ure . You come from senna tea , Not-yo’ commodity cheese and seffadaffadoa
stew—four parts home-grown vegetables and one part USDA pork in a can . You
come from a tribe who can make a whole lot of something , from nothing

. My father taught me to never pick a fight and to always try to
logistic my way free of confrontations . My mother taught me
to ask them nice , once , and if they didn’t respond to reason
, or civility ; knock them out

!! You come from the Caribbean diaspora of calypso music , before reggae , and the
Motown sound . Hank Williams Sr , Patsy Cline and The Nutcracker Suite , from Ike
and Tina Turner to James Brown to Michael Jackson . You come from Aretha Franklin
, Mahalia Jackson and Whitney Houston . You come from I Love Lucy and Sanford
and Son .You come from Huntley And Brinkley and Walter Cronkite . You come from
watch what their mouths say , but listen to what their hands do

. Agnes Philomena Wade Reneau , come
from hybrid generations of Wade , Mejia
, Brown , and Bent ,  a matriarchal helix
of DNA , finally to signify Reneau

I remember my mother and our neighbor , Mrs. Emma Cooper , speaking excitedly
about a tragedy that had befallen some woman’s daughter dying in a hospital , and
, a miracle surgery performed by a doctor with a secretive past . . . who then turns out to
be the now cured daughter’s real father , who the mother believed had died : a plane crash
. But the father/doctor now returned , after years of amnesia , and rebuilding his life
, to save the daughter he had never seen , nor knew of . . . I was curiously amazed

, only to find out that Mama and Mrs. Cooper
were talking about their “stories”
—As the World Turns , The Days Of Our Lives
and General Hospital

. You come from save every penny and don’t waste your food , come from taught there
are starving people in Africa , while you sweated in Milk and Honey’s hungerland
. You come from tribulation , while Belizean , written as truth in Ebony and Jet Magazines
; from Muhammad Speaks that spoke to Black rage ; from Look and Life and The Saturday
Evening Post , that more often , than not , denied your existence . You come from
an endeavor to persevere , rollin’ pretty in a 1973 blue Chevrolet short-bed pickup truck

. You come from 60 million , or more sorrow songs
risen from the bellies of slave ships
and descended from people
who ran faster than Fugitive Laws . You come

from no means No!! like Mama Rosa Parks—you shall not be moved . I AM BECAUSE
YOU WERE . You come from yea , though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death
—I shall fear no evil . . . You come from compass the matriline true north , to be/come seed
/-ed kernel from Eve , buried coal to diamond faceted into a knot of flame . You come from
the arrow blown off course by Katrina , but returned as miraculous—my matriarchal
, guardian angel , as meta/phor priceless treasure in God’s redeeming light .