3 Women within Her.

I. They call her slave.

My heirloom -

generational trauma lineage complicated

Over waters shackled naked

No longer sacred

A human money tree

If I stay healthy

My girls - Emancipated

Laugh loud and free

In a place I'll not see

Women I will never be

Supernatural gains

On the path I purchased

with blood and pain.

She named herself Warrior.

II. They call her woke.

I have to ask:

Why are you racist?

Proclaiming holy scriptures,

telling coldblooded lies?

How can you qualify yourself,

a moral authority,

while endangering community lives?

People need

housing,

healthcare,

therapy,

clean water to drink.

I see you fight

for rich and well-connected

Society is on the brink!

Every human matters here

not merely the humans

you approve or control.

Standby for what?

More lawless behavior?

Can't peacefully vote at the polls.

Women's bodies politicized.

Schools unsafe,

pills needed to learn.

Misinformation

Widely disseminated,

Books banned and burned.

Morning awakens,

more violence

and death

and tragedy

and trauma scars earned.

Empty prayers,

Fleeting thoughts,

A moment of silence adjourned.

I have to ask:

Where is your love for humans evident in your community and political work?

On second thought,

asking is futile.

Light makes no exception for dirt.

She named herself Sacred.

III. They call her a creative.

I see—

black like the night, smooth and sweet deep black like midnight tablecloth, in the formal dining hall. black like fierce dignity comforting constellations with love, black like cold case shadows begging to be solved. black the divine canvas and culture of creation, black the root and dynamic sound of nature's affirmation. black beauty personified in unabashed splendor swell. black seasoned and protected with cast iron tenure, so powerful,

none can derail.

I see —

black mentoring cool rain droplets before dawn, blackberry jam on warm biscuits, fluffy and ferocious. black romanced by quiet pain and deafening silence. black covered by pure petals majestic white, lovingly affluent. white bloom pierces the hearts of all who fawn and gaze. black extends transformative roots deeper, focused and unfazed. to appreciate the wispy white bloom of mother nature's hour, draw courage from prevailing black in this season ripe,

with divine encounters.

She named herself Whole.

From the author: Thank you immensely for spending time here reading this unexpected and imperfect poem, rich with three distinct voices from one Black woman. Warrior. Sacred. Whole. Please comment and share. I would love to hear your takeaways. Much love and deliberation.