Cover Image Credit: Women of Color Foundation
Fortuitously created, imperfectly beautiful.
No! How could I believe that it was by chance.
The essence of I Am, more spiritual than physical.
Love. Strength. Virtue. Molded by the Potters hand.
No not by chance, the personification of grace.
Beautiful circumvoluted shell, melanin infused passion fruit.
How you walk, how you talk, how you sway the wind.
No. I’m not misinformed, the winds may at its slightest bend branches,
at its mightiest toss seas, but just as I am wooed so the winds are moved
by the switch of your hips, gazelle like stride, as you say; slay. Me. Huntress.
You inherited the entire color spectrum.
From bold dark hues to modest fair tones.
Assorted, delectable creations. carmel covered, butter pecan
Dark and milk chocolate, lightly toasted marshmallow cream filled.
Umm! What would a King be without his Queen
The way I rule over my castle the way you rule over me.
Strong on your own, have raised boys into men
Has turned men into babies, sinners to repent
Your ways are similar to the days, ever-changing yet consistent
I’m proud to call you mother, sister, daughter, friend, lover, wife.
From the plains of Ethiopia, to the Compton hoods
No matter if Mexico, yes even China, Brazil, India or France
All of the Americas and back to Afrika again.
You have been mother to the earth, but somehow cast aside.
Cast all over the earth yet somehow you survived.
Your warmth embrace, your forgiving love.
Your continuous endurance, just the smile on your face.
Though you deserve the world in many ways.
I’d simply like to say.