Flags and Tomorrow
Our Fluttering Flag
Eyes mesmerised upwards
Doused in weeping rain
Drowned and limp in half-mast
Imprisoned by weight of burden past
Our Almond eyes
Shining in bronzed flourish
Nostril cast in flared pride
Scars etched like wrinkled smile
No outlets to release the bile
Deep sky painting
Captured in heavenly canvas
Horizon’s galore
Stains of rain erased
Showcasing rainbows palette
Going to work with tomorrow’s machete
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
For Sister Shiela
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1 comment:
This poem contains the memories of my soul that universe chose my brother to reveal.
So I dance and sing and invite you in.
Lost in the Diaspora, sometimes the rain echoes the rivers, back home that we shall see no more and the tears our mothers cry for us.
This poem is a melody that steadies my hands as I lean to open those doors, in myself - for the "Grown Woman" to evolve and emerge, with a blessing still in my hand.
Respect, Peace & Love,
Sheila...X.
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