When I look into the mirror, I see Her-Em-Akhet looking back at me, guarding his desert domain with majestic power! My very image frightens them. The esoteric nature of my symbolism, commanding the skyline and resting immortally upon the burning sands, turns cold the blood of those who would dare even contemplate hurting my people. So intimidating is my magnificence, my persona is demonized with little to no consideration or philosophical reasoning. I can hear the legacy thieves calling me sphinx or as translated from the Grecian tongue, the strangler. “How truly ignorant,” I think to myself, “For I am the Rising Sun!” Peering between the pyramids of Khufu and Khafre, I am able to fix my eyes on the breath and beauty of Akhenaton’s kingdom. Allowing my mind to leap and dance along the Nile, I realize that the river flowing from my lands is, in fact, the main tributary which fed the Garden of Eden itself. I blink at the mighty blast of the elephant, the fearsome roar of the lion. I feel my spirit being uplifted yet soothed by the energetic rhythm of the drums. The images of lush rainforests and expansive plains, both teaming with wildlife of every sort, blur as my mind races back from this ecstasy to my actual reflection in the mirror, and I think to myself, “This is the countenance of a general.”
Immediately forming in the infinite background of the mirror stands my invincible army. Thousands of foot soldiers with spear and gleaming shield in hand. My cavalry men do not flaunt gaudy armor as they mount their elephants. I smirk delightedly, for I know that only the mountains stand between us and victory. And victory it shall be as I glance southeastward to my cheek and into the Mediterranean coast. I drift farther southward past the desert and behold science making leaps and bounds beyond the recorded achievements of these people. Donning my glasses causes the far reaches of the heavens to instantly appear, no longer hidden by the distance. Squinting carefully, the scene races northward, soaring over the mysterious sea and landing upon the shores of Greece then Italy, Spain and France. I bear witness to the Moors giving instruction in the universities they established in southern Europe.
(An excerpt from “On What I See When I Look N2 the Mirror”, We Struggle Not Against Flesh & Blood: Thoughts & Reflections on Being Black in America, Vol. 1. Copyright © 2012. Amir Clayton Powell. All Rights Reserved. Available for order online.)
Amir Clayton Powell is an author, advocate, entrepreneur, father, husband, servant of God, and warrior. By the by, he also happens to be the Publisher of The Old School Journal™ (TOSJ) as well as the Founder & Chairman of A C Powell & Co. LLC. Find A C on Twitter: @AClaytonPowell. Follow TOSJ on Facebook & Twitter.
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