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Generations Raising Themselves:

I’m more myself now than I ever was.
When I look in the mirror. I don’t see the sad eyed-girl with low self-esteem. Or the abandonment of my mother. To have a second husband and leave us. That was her choice.

To leave her kids with their grandmother during their teenage years. (Never -mind my dead father).

As I bent down to tie my shoe. I let my mind wander back, to that girl, I used to be. On the floor of grandma’s corner house, faced down into the carpet. Hands over my face. I’m barely breathing. Tears falling out the sides.

My brother and his friends are teasing me for wearing the same winter hat.  Day in, day out I wore that hat. It was starting to be really hot. I still hadn’t put a comb to my hair. Let alone, look at that hot mess sitting on my head. So I did, what I thought most 13-year-olds do when no ones looking. I stuck a wool hat on my head and kept it moving. Until those boys snatched it off.

Then all that shame, all that matted-down nappy-shame ran over me. My younger cousin walked in the middle of my disgrace. In the middle of their full on the enjoyment of sheer bullying. She covered me with her love. Being all grown, at six years old. She wiped my tears. Pulled my body off the floor.

I made it. Past their scrutiny, past their foul words. Past the reget of not knowing how to take care of myself.

We’d become best friends that day. She too needed a mother. I cooked her meals, walked her to school. She introduced me to an old school beautician in our neighborhood. The rest is history
God is good like that.~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley

Getting Up Again

when I am broken, I remember what wholeness is…

Finding Morning

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Hello, Morning its been a while since

you and I sat down -to share a hug or a smile.

these days don’t come easy, there’s been lots of soul-washing -feelings,

feels like latter rain of latter days

cloud gatherings that tell me how God dips my coffee-made soul deep down in honey

then I’m not alone and the bees are there to pollinate my tears into honeycombs

that tells me all my fears have drawn to the surface something that’s always been eroding

and finally when there’s nothing left to save

my soul and I find morning

kindness sister

One Hundred and Twenty Versions Of My Come Back Stance :

Photo by David Bares on Pexels.com

I knew I still had some come back left in me,

I wanna be off the radar doing good

so good for the first time in a long time my socks match

with the those pink and green toes in the morning

doing so good, I’d wake up satisfied in

my own black coffee- they’d be singing folktales to me

hold my smile in the middle of adversity

braid my hair in milk and honey

with a splash of turmeric and cardamom

because there’s nothing better than that

golden life flowing, down on the inside

being the best of me

reaching for the rest of me

…~kindness sister

Where There’s Hope ~There’s Possibility, That’s where you’ll find me:

after the madness of darkness

after the portals of shattered things

such as tattered lint falling, slowly into spring

hope is a mother’s touch, unable to hold her child

undefined hope has room to grow

knowing the love of a mother, her love is still there

Hope like a wounded bird, pecking its’ way, untapped,

through the holes of despair, pecking at daylight

pecking at the seam

breaking through norms of dying

undue the burden, somethings gotta give

cracking at the yoke- wide with wings,

feeling high in the moment , a gush, a rescued touch

the ebb of love-ones’ emerge

believing, even when I’m weak

there’s possibility~ kindness sister

In the Ring Of Isolation: I Got Crazy-Stupid faith: Aka: I keep Getting Up

When sadness comes for me

I’ll be dancing my way in poetry

down bean pods in limbo, breaking my awkward pause

to feel the thud, to crawl when I can’t walk

sling, by sling, thump by thump

I’m alive

wrestling madness private eye ,

my swing is stupid,

my right hook, even I didn’t see it coming

I wade in stillness,

I wade in crazy-stupid faith

I wade and breathe in the music,

hold-up the cotton- candy sky

mint and saffron in all my daze

teleport sadness, inside

drizzle refreshing, dash, pip, bop and blow

ring the bell, shake and shake

I’m ready this time.

~Kindness

“You And Me: We Are God’s Heartbeat”

(digging through my family photos- my son at One years’ old, he’s 9 now)

deeply grieving, over the way it was,

church on a Sunday,

pub’s in the afternoon,

baptizing Jesus, and the things we lost

temporary-people, cut down in fields of green

temporary-socials, satisfied the touch of needs

I hate to say this..

nothing remains, nothing is promised

 save the pain for a little heartache

 save the tears in old used coffee cans

save the joy but let spill

over worries, even kill

over problems, gone down hill

over certain unmarked graves 

waiting for the day 

waiting for the new normal 

if it ain’t coming,

 I’m running to Jesus

finding that empty grave

lay down upon it,

be the stone that rolled away

be the cloth where is his head lay

be the dove that Christ had come

be the one that spreads good news

 be the spirit after flesh

be a witness, be the hope of a small child

be the one who thrives in uncertain times

be the one who’s light still shines 

there is, unconquerable hope 

and it lives in you & me ~kindness sister Krissy