My kin and I are cornrowed together,
maps braided into aching scalps
like sweet freedom passed from
shaky, determined hands urging
each other forward.
⠀
My kin and I are cornrowed together,
Mothers to Sons to Sisters to Cousins to Limitless,
time telephone cup pressed ear to ear,
hearts pendulums in the valley between us,
web stretching across the Milky Way,
words hanging on Big Dipper.
⠀
My kin and I are cornrowed together,
The deepest prayer ever uttered,
Blackbird song shivering down
trees and down under, legacy
all achatter, mycelium dreams,
Even Mother Earth knows our bond
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.
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Comments (4)
Really powerful, great work!
So powerful and beautifully written.
The bond of flesh, blood and bone, mystical and powerful as the earth. I felt this deeply!
Beautiful and sad all at the same time.