i awoke to hear the wind walk down the block and run its fingers
along the windows. it's somewhat fitting that the temperature is
15 degrees in New York City today. it seems that much colder after
hearing some terrible news last night.
a sister by the name of Anisa L. Fujah left this world for the next
world last night. i think it's safe to say a good deal of warmth and
light left with her. while i can't claim to have known her deeply, i
knew her well enough to be struck deeply by who she was. i met Anisa
way back, thanks to another talented and beautiful soul by the name
of D.Cross, around the time when i was ripping and running from poetic oasis
to poetic oasis. the one thing i remember without fail is THAT VOICE.
she had a voice that when she sang, it was like sunlight framing the
clouds with gold. just to hip you to that, check out the video below
of her at the BellyFeast Living Room series hosted by my dearest
sisterfriend Iowan Tribal:
Anisa was always someone ready with a smile. as i read all of the
posts on people's Facebook walls, it dawned on me just how many of
us near and far she touched. i still get wistful hearing her and
D.Cross do their own remix of Lupe Fiasco's 'Kick Push' back in Iowan's
brownstone apartment on Franklin Avenue. when someone loved leaves us
like this, you find yourself asking 'why?' a lot. it leaves you asking
questions of gods, friends and ultimately yourself. anguish and heartbreak
sit at your shoulders when this happens. but i know now, there is no
tragedy here. Anisa Fujah is still alive within every person who knew
her no matter how long or how little she knew them and that's nothing to be
sorrowful about. that, good people is a legacy.
so this morning, while the world seems colder, the clouds seem to shimmer
a bit brighter. and i think it's because Anisa's up there, letting her
voice scatter sweetly to make them that much more beautiful. and that
makes me feet a little more warm. but only a little.
