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The Lady Got Loc’d

by The Dani Writer 2 months ago in slam poetry · updated about a month ago

Yes she did

The Lady Got Loc’d
Photo by Nick Owuor (astro.nic.visuals) on Unsplash

It’s not every day that a lady locs her hair,

closes her eyes, takes a deep breath in

and lets out all preconceived notions of what her hair should be like.

Abandons the combs and the clearing, opting instead for lush wild forests of thick tangled tresses.

so that there is no separation from where I begin, and they end.

that there is no separation from where I begin, and they end.

I watched every strand take form and immediately reach for the closest star.

Smiled as each one accepted blessings from the Orishas.

By Omar on Unsplash

As each one took a meaning and energy all its own.

This one is an immediate link to the ancestral realms and access to ancient wisdom.

Lower right is a radar sensor that will detect a change of vibration within a five-mile radius and automatically default to another to configure an alternate protective grid.

Intelligence arisen.

It is not every day that a lady locs her hair and trusts her inner beauty will shine through with or without the presence of a mirror, or a photograph, or an admirer.

Dredlocs full of promise

reach for depths of oceans and earth as well as heights of heaven and beyond.

He prayed, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Black woman stayed in that chair and said, “Give me only my hair and I will feed the world.”

Because it is not every day that a Sistah locs her head.

Despite the masses of unyielding adherents, this is still a solitary sacred act, an age-old ritual full of life’s wisdom.

By Marvin Meyer on Unsplash

From here on in lady always be cleansing, always be conscious, always be careful.

You have connections to the deities that are now unfiltered.

Full strength is only for the seasoned traveler and those not fearful of long journeys.

Take your time.

Savor nourishment.

Accept only the purest offerings.

For it’s not every day that a lady locs her hair.

Photo by Bia Sousa on Pexels

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slam poetry

The Dani Writer

My earliest memory is of being in ocean. Born and raised in Bermuda, I lived a childhood made of pastel joys. I've learned to make a delicious vegetarian lasagne, train as a registered nurse, and keep the juiciest of secrets. @thedaniwriter

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