Tag Archives: peace

Having You There Makes the Difference: In other words – We Need You to Imagine…

Re-imagining myself as a writer, by grace, I am alive. Writing the script of my life -sifting through warm, dark, soil. Tending to the lumps that shape pages, where I’ve been, where I’m headed, how I’m still changing.

On the morning of discover,

I am the afro-haired girl

with friends of freedom,

we are soulmates,

in good company, we are miracles of change,

aggrandized gold, sprouting through the cracks

bountiful seedlings, dancing across the Alantic,

arising, gas-lighting stars bursting with higher thinking

bursting outside, with ladders of forgiveness.

kindness is our resource,

love is, its native power

hope is our brother

wisdom is our Mother

riding on the wings of the Cardinal

Some Folks Say They Won’t Talk about It: aka I Say, I’m not ashamed” There Are Rainbows around Dark Corners.

IN memory of The Poem, sung By Billie Holiday “Strange Fruit”

Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swingin’ in the Southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin’ from the poplar trees

Pastoral scene of the gallant South
The bulgin’ eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burnin’ flesh

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop

In the beginning, of the long dark, frosty night. I stood watching the angelic clouds, beautiful angels hold gatherings-surroundings of the same dark city. Deeper and deeper- angels brought us safely across bridges and stoic mountains holding our dark past within its grooves.

We over came the hatred of ourselves. The hatred of our skin’s- bitter fruit. Strange things, “scented Magnolias sweet and fresh” the eyes of the south, the burning of the mouth and “blood at the root.” Hold out your tongue, chile,’ don’t cut it out.

The soul of black bodies, the soul of white folk, marching,

“Jim crow” behind us,

all the while,

the cross before us.

and we made it,

some places, we bore the heat of the chain,

some bore slavery at its shame, and we made it,

somebodies’ son, somebodies daughter, “swinging on the poplar trees”,

the road are swollen, some, no road at all.

Still, we made it

and all the while, there were “splinters, tacks and boards torn-up”.

We never stop, we never sat down.

and now, my dear chile’, with the road before us, we’ll hold on,

we” hold on chile’.

kindness sister Krissy Mosley

Running Back To You, aka: God has Never Left Me Alone

In the south, way-way back in the woods stood my old -home-church. A small off-white building. Where I learn to play the drums, direct the youth choir and for the life of me- I don’t know why, I do believe.

I would take off my Sunday shoes and race on that dusty- dirt road. Covered in dirt from the waist down. Felt like, I did, some of my best running back at that ole’ church.

I remember the hot sweaty air, accumulating down into my off white stockings. My off white stockings slipping pass my hips. My long piano fingers -pinching my waistline for dear life. All I wanted to do was win.

Kick my heels back, point my chin to the sky, taste sweet nothings’ in the breeze, close my eyes and feel like I’ve been running for miles, only to go fifteen meters toward the church steps.

Dust off my ruffled black skirt and walk up the stairs like the wind had been knocked out of me. All the while I could hear the joyous music of praise and jubilee.

in the morning, high above the air

clouds touching the endless hopes of glory

ours souls talk,

running out of words,

falling flat on our faces,

tender calling, oh’ to touch

the hem of his garment.

be made whole, in love

be made whole, in laughter,

be made whole, in grace,

be made whole, in wellness

be made whole, in age,

be made whole, in spirit

your kindness sister Krissy Mosley

Drawing close to the Spirit… Cry of My Spirit

The spirit of peace moves, where there is chaos it will cease

The spirit of love moves, where there is hatred it will cease

The spirit of kindness moves, where there suffering it will cease

The spirit of hope moves, where is helplessness it will cease

The spirit of gentleness moves, where there is loss, there will be comfort,

covering multitudes,

covering disasters,

covering failures,

it moves

“with healing in its wings”

kindness sister Krissy

Just thought I’d say, God “You are My Peace”

Come holy spirit, somehow now I need it

things that are broken

– hidden pieces, scattered like weeds

bones I’m becoming,

didn’t know, they were worth-growing

turning stones into seeds

sowing broken things,

Dear God, I pray this time,

you wake me,

replace the hole, in my heart,

father-me…

replace, the “cage bird, for the sparrow, still watches over me,

I don’t always sing “because I’m happy”,

sometime, I sing to take what’s broken and make them wings-

fly away,

fly, fly far away,

fly towards the sun, burnout the shadow that lingers near

fly again- touch the soft stream and deer’,

fly above the weary mind

fly against storms

fly between bombs and men of war

fly and bring back the olive branch

God and I,

“you are my peace”

Kindness sister Krissy

When We Are Still…

Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere, even the birds could feel it. The red cardinal perched in the middle of winter snow. The backyard gate swinging. Like something was coming.

I’d never forgotten, the road that leads me home. Midst of maple in the air, the sayings of elders “take the Lord along with you” “when love builds the house”- the window curtains may fade, time slips over into another the day, Ceramic angels have multiplied scattered around the living room.

we are all, God’s birds, chanting our own tune,

dazzling midst

temporarily the ash starts to burn

colors of “Josephs’ robe” -lights up the sky

in the shadow of moon’s trees

and we live and we live

Kindness sister Krissy

Be A Little More Positive Please

It feels like I’ve been sitting on the sideline in my own life.

a listening witness of all things,

mostly out of my control, I’m not crying rivers’ but I just believe ,

I’m so over suffering or letting my suffering win.

kindness sister Krissy

“Many Rivers to Cross”: Lord Only Knows where the river part ways

After-all the things I’ve been through I’ve still got my joy.

That’s to say. I’ve had to let go of some very hurtful things. Hold on to my own forgiveness story. From the depths of my childhood into the lives of my very own children.

I’ve been determined to to give my children the childhood in which they were surrounded with love and not criticism,

determined to build tiny humans that hold their heads up high and be proud of the past from

once we were slaves, and servants and vagabonds

and somehow found a path of love and peace in the midst of it all.

kindness sister Krissy