I have much to do
Thoughts to conceive, born anew
Minister to make
Seasonal Clock
It is cold,
And the rain trickles down the panes,
Whispering of winter still to come,
And I resist acknowledging the inevitable,
As if my denial of consent,
Will keep the seasonal clock
Right where it is.
Inquisitiveness
Take a moment
To step outside your comfort zone,
To enrich the world with your curious mind,
Wonder
Indulge your inquisitiveness,
For the moment has almost passed,
What will be gained from it,
For you?
For another?
Build bridges with your wish to know;
Willingness to learn.
Cutting Hair & Other Tales
As they cut her hair,
Did they know their legacy?
Surely not,
Though it’s ingrained in everything
They’ve ever been taught,
Implicit and explicit,
Did they feel the weight of each lock,
As it fell to the floor?
The weight of feet torn from land,
Land torn from feet;
Of shackles and brands;
Of false emancipation;
Of separate but “equal”;
Of jumpin’ Jim Crow;
Of rope;
Of crosses, burning and imposed;
Of color blind racism;
Of a new apartheid;
Of always being an alien
In a land deemed ones own?
No.
Of course they didn’t feel it,
Even if they knew it,
They’ll never have such weight to bare,
The racial contract has made it so,
And on and on the story goes,
Adding another lesson to the tales,
This 3 white boys
Who cut the young black girl’s hair.
To Shrink
You worry,
That everyone judges you,
For qualities innate,
For qualities socially constructed,
You worry,
That secretly they hate
What you are,
You worry
And so you shrink
That voice,
Shrink
that smile,
Shrink
that stance,
Shrink
that idea,
Shrink,
Shrink,
Shrink until you can’t find yourself,
So small,
Remember who you are,
Dare to be,
Despite
Dare to grow
Your heart and soul
The Illusion
There has been a crack
In me
And I am open,
Yoke exposed,
I am taking in, taking on, trying on
The world in ways I’ve never before seen,
And I am aware of
The illusion in which we swim,
I am aware,
And tempted to scream it from the mountain tops,
But that is not my mission,
I thought knowledge was,
My mission involves learning
To swim through the illusion in a different way,
I have not found out yet how,
But I am open,
Finding pieces of my broken shell,
And reassembling self,
Equipping for this mission,
To be in and of the world,
To simultaneously see, not see, taste, touch, and transform the illusion.
She of Letters 