My Soul Sistahs

My Soul Sistahs

We met in a small cafe. The cafe has kick-ass coffee and array of patrons that arrange themselves in contrast to the namesake of this cafe. The patrons have a look of humility as they sip their libations. They fiddle through their books or tap into their laptops but they look like they are seeking more. We come out to recite words formed from emotions and reactions through poetry. Introduce by a fella that shines with World Wide gifts. I call him Humanity. We gather within our circle with big cheers and hold our eyes in awe of the ray of colors that go far and beyond. It is a fellowship of creative poetics like a congregation for religion and devotions to share truths through lyres, sonnets, satire and humor, and even a haiku or two.

She lifts us and wraps us into her dark world of satire stories. She searches her bag to find her journaled thoughts. She takes in small talk as she scouts out the just-right tale to tell. She decides on one of irony found in the daily routine of life work. Her job is where one should serve and demonstrates utopian compassion and care. Yet the robotic moves of the surrounding co-existing workers are useless and lack of care. Empathic Being. She feels their sadness and embodies their fears. On stage, she becomes more enraged and I can tell that it took every morsel of strength to keep from screaming at the careless team. It is love for the clients’ needs and examples of sacrificial love and devotion. She leaves them with hugs and imprints of her shared humility and justice for equality. Her hands are clean and released to write. She does and shares her stories with us. She is my Soul Sistah.

She embodies the essence of tales that are seemingly radical. They are radically twisted with taboo topics. “Politically incorrect” the majority would say however, we feel her power and we know that she is not inferior to the masses. She is like an inferno. She is a girl blazing and on fire with passionate tales from the dark side and transparent and bright as the light. Her poems pour out. Arousing us to be mesmerized in her lacy tales and fantasies. What an exhilaration device and use of imagery with words. Summoning our response and we applaud her courage to speak her truths to us. She is my Soul Sistah

She breezes in from the rain with a large rainbow umbrella. Almost in a twirl with glee. Carrying her wares in a semi-large bag that is ready to be unloaded. Love fills the air as does the aromas of roasted coffee beans. The decor in the room is red; red booths that have been reserved for the couples or friend groups. Coffee, Kaluhlas, or Bloody Mary’s are sitting pretty on tables. Dim lights yet I see the love and anticipation on their faces. The faces are of a variety of hues. I wait patiently on my stool. I shift back and forth to share words with fellow creatives in this space I feel enthused. I compare the hues in the mist and embrace our differences with admiration and adoring love. Agape Love is the thread of poems, I recited that night. She is Bree, She is Me. She is Us and We are soul tied through our works. I miss their smiles and hugs along with their words that gleam more love for me to write about. When the chaos is over we will do it again, again and again. We are Soul Sistahs ready to demonstrate anUnited Force of being.

Sincerely,

Bree Z. Love