O'hene' (a Love letter to HER KING)



 


O’hene’
An Ode to the Sons of Kings

You rise each morning
with the weight of the world on your chest.
And still 
You rise.
Unshaken.
Bold.
Unfurled.

Black man, you are strong.
Resilient.
Carved from stone and fire.
Capable of walking through storms
that don’t even bother to call your name.
But you answer them anyway 
with courage.

A Black man’s skin...Your Skin
is rich as soil 
deep, rooted, royal.
Each scar?
A story.
Each step?
A sacred place.
You don’t just carry history...
You are history.
Because your ancestors didn’t die 
they dreamt of you and they dreamt of me.
We are the promise they whispered in chains.
You are the prayer they buried in cotton fields.
You are the sunrise they never got to see.
But I see you
And I hope you see it every morning when you look in the mirror.

You are worthy.
Of love that sees you whole.
Of respect that doesn’t shrink your soul.
Of joy 
not in pieces.
Of rest 
without guilt.
Of light 
without asking.

Your voice
is thunder.
Even when the world plays deaf.
Even when they silence the drum,
You speak 
truth.
Your rhythm is divine.
Your tongue, a symphony
of struggle...
triumph...
and spine.

You should celebrate Yourself.
This hue.
This crown.
These coiled galaxies above your brow.
You are not what they fear.
You are what they dream.
A king.
A healer.
A builder of the highest esteem.

You lead 
with love.
With power that's quiet
but never small.
I lift the room when I walk in.
I am the spark in a young boy’s eyes.
The mentor.
The mirror.
The answer to “what if I could?”

You are brilliant.
Not despite your Blackness —
because of it.
Your thoughts are revolutions.
Your ideas?
Victories.
You paint visions that bend skylines.
You were born to fly...
and You will.

You shape your destiny
with hands made holy.
With intention.
With fire.
With focus.

Peace 
is not a gift.
It’s your birthright.

You are allowed to smile.
To rest.
To breathe.
To cry.
Because strength
looks like survival...
but feels like healing.

Your Blackness is not heavy 
It is holy.
A galaxy in motion.
A badge of honor.
A crown that doesn't need permission.

You are building a legacy.
Brick by brick.
Sweat by prayer.
Your children
and their children
can do more than just survive 
they can live.

You are  held
by a village that knows your name.
By voices that lift you
even when the world forgets.
I am wrapped in love
from every shore.
Not alone.
Not broken.
Not less.

You are more.

(Final pause. Step forward. Look them in the eye. Deliver this as a whisper, or a roar.

And when the world
tries to tell me
I am too rough...
I rise 
and whisper back:

You
 Are
Enough

"This is to the King who earns his place at my side, I'll be waiting"

2025

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