PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

scattered
like
wishes lost
the world knows this fourth mule so very well
indeed
and now reflect upon
the so resourcefully beautiful
black woman
she is
the seamlessly dismissed tower
of even her very own dinner table
imagine though
if her family were given a podium upon
which to speak freely of her wealth
and if they chose to be
just so broadly enriched
it was the stark realization of this likely
never occurrence that spoke so firmly
to my own heart
and of that arresting circumstance
this tribute was born
the ghettos raised her well
along with her grand mama before her
stemming back farther
and still deeper south
why, those old plantations still stand tall
just to listen for her
song filled soulful voice
straining across the hot delta during the cream
of the pickin' time
the cotton can still feel her gnarled old limber
hands
as she caressed the tufts so to swiftly snatch
them from the mother field's thorny grip
so much of what we, as women know today
came across and forward
upon the great black woman's back
an easy existence for her never
it was not
from the bitter
freedom stolen
to freedom bought
to freedom sold
and finally
freedom won on her so deserved back
while being shuffled around down along
mean rutty roads
she traveled proud
with royal soul in her blood
head held high
yet always humble to the Lord
a symbol of self truth
worth that lives without price
she walked when others got offered a ride
to town
she could not truly ever be beaten down
her soul has always stood taller than any whip
she stood her ground with broken ribs
and bloodied feet
when others scattered like chickens and
chose to run
like scared livestock
her great sacrifices
private tragedies
and personal triumphs
too often got left out of history's
great telling
but the whispers of their greatness
over the years
became
riotous shouts
and words became her soldiers
and these soldiers brought her stories
to the deserved forefront of our minds
some may choose to see her as a tragic victim
but I choose to reveal her for what she was
is and will likely always be
a mother
an American
often a true heroine
God Bless you all
dead and living
my dear, dear sisters
all you amazing black, beautiful women....................
(written Dec. 21, 2001 730am)