The window is open on a breezy night

The air fills my lungs, reminding me of the blessing of breath

The wind catches the sound of a train’s distant whistle and I wonder where it is going

A lifetime of wanderlust and wanting to enjoy both the ride and the destination.

Through the Looking Glass

It's hard to believe all that has changed in the 16 years since we started this blog. We have been through the looking glass and back again.

Gains and losses, life gone sideways, starting out on a smooth, newly paved street and ending up in the ditch. But...we pull together, climb out of the ditch, brush the dust from our skirts and keep moving forward.

That we do it together is the key. That we hold each others' heads above water is what's important. That we hold each other back from the abyss...

And live to laugh another day.

 

 

What calls me to the ocean?

Is it the peace borne of rhythmic waves,

Or the gems that appear as the sun meets the water?

Perhaps it's the way I am made buoyant,

able to feel my body held by the surface of greatness.

For under the ocean lie two million ancestors

Who never completed the passage.

They call to me.

They hold me.

 

Mother's Love

I drape your spirit around my shoulders to keep me warm

I button you around my heart to keep me from hurt

I feel your back to my front as you take the arrows life launches toward me

When I can't reach, I feel your levitation, lifting me as you rise

When someone speaks unreasonable bullshit, you seal my lips until I can respond

  with balance and kindness

When I run out of steam and enthusiasm, you remind me 

  that a commitment made is a commitment kept

I wait for your wisdom to grow in me, and pray that it does

I would rather laugh than hurt, even knowing there is growth in the pain

Your words are my vocabulary

I will always rest in your arms and you in mine

My dearest, dearest mother.

Forgetful Men

Forgetful Men

I am not less than you because I am a woman.

I am not less than you because I am viewed as Black, Cherokee, poor, Asian, gay, crippled or old.

I am not less than you.

You can not see all of me because I can not be contained, captured or experienced in the framework lenses of limitation, fear or bewilderment.

I am what God made me.

I am a rejoicing part of God’s plan.

I soar through hatred, fear, anger, disgrace and lies.

God made me to live surrounded by freedom, love and grace.

I float like a butterfly.

On my  journey from flower to flower

My soul invented call and response.

My soul hears and answers the call of God.

Therefore, I am accountable to God.

Therefore, I humbly and gratefully bow to God.

Men have been spewing this same make believe crap since the start;
the land of the free and home of the brave.

I am not less than you because I am a woman.

God and a Woman made a pact and carried forth Jesus to this world.

As Sojourner Truth stated,“ Man had nothing to do with him. “

Blissfully ignorant;
Ignorantly blissful.
To, with words,
make insignificant
an entire race, ethnicity, gender.
How enormous the privilege;
the capacity to simply
not
give
a
fuck.

Summer Morn in New Hampshire

 - Claude McKay, 1922

All yesterday it poured, and all night long
    I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat
Upon the shingled roof like a weird song,
    Upon the grass like running children’s feet.
And down the mountains by the dark cloud kissed,
    Like a strange shape in filmy veiling dressed,
Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist,
    And nestled soft against the earth’s wet breast.
But lo, there was a miracle at dawn!
    The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze,
The sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn,
    The songsters twittered in the rustling trees.
And all things were transfigured in the day,
    But me whom radiant beauty could not move;
For you, more wonderful, were far away,
    And I was blind with hunger for your love.