I just read a poem by Langston Hughes which made me think of all immigrants , forced by slavery, or position, or adventurousness to leave their homeland for a new land—generations later genetically seeking their origins. Are they part of their forefathers’ land? Part of the seas, or rivers? Stardust? Part of all things? Do they search or are they drawn to an abundance of their forefathers DNA buried or sprinkled or dispersed someplace they will recognize instinctively?
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