There are multitudes of blessings waiting…
everywhere I go in my dreams,
I ‘ve been an old woman,
a goat, a slave, then I am young
Phillis Wheatley, reading wa-a-y before my time
on the precipice of tiny clad-anchors, holding mighty ships
together, the bit in a horse’s mouth carrying precious cargo by the saddle,
sobbing up direction,
relics of fleshy-pound clay. Sutures of umbilical cord strung long lineages/women spilling into children- children spilling into themselves – themselves spilling back into graves
laughter hanging out with baptist…
post-slavery we-free-people – still understanding freedom/exhausted/spoiled on another mans’ misfortunes
that freedom might not have been an understatement – blue haze/ built in-spoon
making revolution /never been pretty in pink
dress for the ball.
smell death coming/running/trying to get the blood out the bone/
running/moving up yonder/playing song and shadow
kindness sis krissy
Ideas to implement/improvement in my community and in my home( my original family photo in home book tree
this fall break gifted(me) – A mother of three with this notion of creating a book tree and after thoroughly searching my house for books. The kids and I had more than enough books. I must say we had blast watching the books fall. Quickly learning we needed to youtube this idea.
At our local library – the books are neatly stacked with lights to adorn and so we attempted to do the same. So after trying, and falling and leaning books here is the final result.
Now my kids say- “mom you know I wanted to read that book but now it’s in the book tree now. In which I replied – we still have the E-copied version so no excuses. Looking at the book tree the kids gather around to read more. The lights are calming. A gentle reminder to stop and read is so inviting.
And here is my shorten to-do list of other ideas
*start a crisis hotline in my community( I just found out we didn’t have one)
*create a free hugs event- I believe in human touch- we’ll live longer
* save a little more for rainy days
*give away umbrellas and gently used coats
*give away in condition hair products that I bought but never used to the women’s
if you have any please list them below.
The drinking gourd beneath the cheery-red bricks. Set a watchman over dead trees. They don’t wanna be dead anymore.
Ferryman on the river.
Don’t lose the night.
In the belly of the river over on the other side.
kindness sis. Krissy (free photo pixabay)
I’ve been the invisible friend, the cowlick in the middle of the scalp. Parted sideways, pitching tents for newcomers, A broomstick of sortments, a lampshade – a tender flicker listening. Flowering others in light
what I’ve been…
When you walked, your shoes stepped over mine, the bumble, the busy/ tend not to see. while there are more fountains /they’ve always been- colored ones, white ones, Latino, cisterns salted with the same steam. Heated from the same mud.
My friends, she’s always speaking
as if I can’t,
“she meant to say”
“sorry – she spoke out of turn”
buzzing under my fog- no I didn’t/watch it/ I’m walking here too
“I know she didn’t bend far over enough, to let you pass.” “Hey, are those new shoes? They look nice on you”
“Where you’d get them? I like that pink lace, iced out/high tops”
I bent down to rub the corner of my toe- to feel it ain’t broke, no parts missing
my thoughts/ belong to hers/ I am the Moabite/ woman at the well/ at high noon
I let even you drink first, a common courtesy I believe
my sip will taste different
by the time I start – the waters are warmer now, fountains running, over boiling
I don’t mind – room temperature but from now on, I won’t let nobody
not even you,
my friend, burn my tongue
kindness sis. Krissy (free photo pixabay)
free photos -public domain pixabay
(free photo pixabay)
I listened to a women’s life story. How the sky became her home. How the trees kept her company when the windy -barks, lean and blow. The clouds to be her pillows on the cold October park bench. Her wavy-coiled black hair had a mind of it’s of own. Her full lips, spake of something I hadn’t yet known. She said
“I’ve never been lonely nor homeless” as long as I’ve had the sky. Wherever I’ve traveled or travailed, God has been watching and that’s good enough for me.” “I may not have the latest iPod or the lastest touch screen.”
“I’ve got pillars of clouds- some days they’re my angels, beautiful set-moons that mirror God’s reflection.”
“And when the morning comes, it reminds me -this is my home. Robust, rotund -green and full -I’ve always wanted my living room. Big, cozy -free.”
“A fireplace- when the sun goes pink, right before the night-blankets and tucks me in.”
One house of mercy
uncounted windows of love
40 years in the making – breaking everyone
scented cinnamon twigs
twisting in the distance, one sense of purpose -the soul searches and searches
praying for a sign of the dove.
kindness sis. krissy