Honor Our Elders

In the heart of every Black family,

there’s a chorus of voices seasoned by time 

Grandmama calling everybody “baby”

even when we’re grown with bills,

Granddaddy shaking his head,

talking ’bout how “kids today don’t know nothing ‘bout real work,”

Great-Aunties clutching their pearls at the latest gossip,

and Great-Uncles laughing loud enough

to rattle the whole house.

These are the legends we grew up under.

Grandmamas who laid hands on our foreheads

and somehow cured everything

from stress to stomachaches

with ginger ale and prayer.

Granddaddies who could fix anything;

a squeaky door, a crooked bike, a broken heart,

with a toolbox older than all of us combined.

Great-Aunties who kept the candy dish full,

even though you had to ask

three times

before they’d finally say,

“Go ‘head, get you a piece.”

And Great-Uncles who told the same stories

every holiday

But we never stopped laughing,

because somehow they got funnier every year.

Their love wrapped around us

like a quilt sewn from decades

of struggle, joy, and stubborn strength.

Their wisdom, sometimes tender,

sometimes sharp as a side-eye,

guided us through childhood

like a spiritual GPS

But somewhere in the rush of today,

with phone screens glowing

and patience running thin,

we forgot to slow down

and soak in their brilliance.

We forgot that a seat at their kitchen table

was once the greatest education we could get.

Respect for elders used to be automatic

Back when you didn’t dare walk into the room

without speaking first,

and nobody sat down to eat

until Grandmama said grace

and Great-Auntie finished telling

that long, winded story

that had absolutely nothing to do

with the meal

It’s time to restore that reverence.

To bring back the tradition

of honoring the ones

who held this family together

with their bare hands and full hearts.

Because our elders

are our living libraries,

our memory keepers,

our seasoned storytellers,

our walking, talking history books

who somehow still know

when we’re lying.

To love them is to honor the roots

that keep us standing strong.

To respect them is to return

to the sacred circle

where legacy lives.

So let us show up 

with gratitude, with laughter,

with hugs that last longer,

with more “Thank yous,”

and fewer “I’ll call you laters.”

Because without their prayers,

we wouldn’t be protected.

Without their lessons,

we wouldn't be ready

And without their love

No matter how loud, wise, hilarious, and holy

We wouldn't be who we ARE.

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About Kiyaza:

Kiyaza the Poet is a multifaceted author and creative whose work bridges poetry, design, and self-discovery. In her book Lost Between the Sheets, she invites readers into her intimate journey through relationships, friendships, and the layered experiences of life as a Black woman.

Beyond her literary voice, Kiyaza channels her artistry into Water Lily Studios, a design platform of journals and planners, where she encourages reflection, creativity, organization, and self-sufficiency in everyday life. 

Her latest creation, Poetry in Bloom, is a collection of handmade, framed poems adorned with pressed flowers, celebrating beauty, resilience, and the art of storytelling.

Kiyaza’s writing focuses on the raw and reflective journey of self-discovery while exploring love, loss, healing, and growth through the lens of a millennial Black woman. 

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Connect with Kiyaza! 

Email: createdbyzakiya@gmail.com

Instagram: @kiyazawrites

Website: www.zakiyacreates.com  

Book: Lost Between the Sheets vol. 1 : https://a.co/d/6PaU3bV