Talented Black creators spotlight: Catherine Nyomenda (Chap 3).

Catherine reminds me of an enigma wrapped within a riddle. When she writes, she skips between the poetic and the dramatic. Her highlights of the African lifestyles of herself, of authors whom she admires, and the many nuances of love keeps you wondering and pondering the passage of life.

She reaches deep down, searching for soul inspired poetry, sharing them in her unique style.

Here is a deep Haiku/poem in which she tells us that she blooms in the face of adversity, sending a strong, positive message to all who will listen.

"I am blooming from the

wound where I once bled."

It takes losing something important, to realize that it actually meant something. So, when a woman cries, someone listens. If it’s not you, then it’s the universe. Whoever listens, acts. Don’t let the universe act. For it’ll be against you.

The last time I saw eyes puffy was the day my mother buried my father. As she grabbed a fistful of the red upcountry loam soil and dropped it in the grave with resigned acceptance, I looked right inside her eyes and reacted with horror at the overt caterpillars, splashed all over her eyes like weeds on a neglected garden.

I was young when my father died. And naïve. It was back in the days when I was certain that crying was for children. Not grownups.

So when my mother turned up at the funeral with red swollen eyes I tugged at Elly’s arm and asked him, “Elly, who beat mother”

“What do you mean?” Elly, my elder brother asked, his eyes focused more on the hole our father was disappearing into, than on the curious little boy whose appreciation of death was as non-existent as his appreciation of life.

“Her eyes”, I commented. “They are horrifying”

“It’s just what happens when people lose those they care about”

That day I learned something I hadn’t realized until a decade later. That you might not really laugh with someone, hold their hand when their hand needs holding, pass them a hankie when the waterworks come calling, or empty vodka bottles with them, but when you wake up and find them gone, the waterworks will hit. And they’ll hit hard.

Catherine's realization of what one may have missed out on when a loved one died, opened her eyes to a very important message. A message which she shares and hopes that we always practice. It is for us to embrace our loved ones, keep them close and enjoy the gift of every day that we spend with them.

Love and vulnerability

"I will fight for growth

Softly

I will violently shed my skin

Reveal my tender heart

And meet you on my knees in pure

vulnerability

The way I Love is an act of rebellion"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wow!

SILENT SYMPHONY

The day I buy myself a color black Harrier

I will shave my legs

steam my thighs

and paint my hair red.

I will slide into my little black dress

and stuff my feet inside a pair of drop-dead gorgeous six-inch heels

I am yet to decide on the importance of wearing underwear.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Catherine being free!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Evolve spiritually with you

Communicate effectively with you

Listen without judging you

Inspire the growth in you

Profess love to you

Seek to understand you

Embrace beautiful moments with you

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As you continue your creative journey Catherine, may you find peace, joy and enjoyment in the freedom of expression which is your signature message.

It is a joy to know you!!!

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