#BlackLivesMatter

I know you feel uncomfortable when you hear #blacklivesmatter
But imagine how we feel when we're told we don't
We're constantly told we don't matter
By the news
By clothing designers
By awards shows
By historical documents
By the movie industry
By advertisements
By employers
By realtors
By law enforcement
Yet you want us to be quiet
And not react
As we are being led like sheep to slaughter
Yet you want a stiff upper lip
As we watch senseless brutality
Against our people
Yet you want us to stand idly by
As we clean up yet another bloodstain
Yes, all lives matter
But we need you to get off our backs
Remove the shackles from our feet
Take the nooses from around our necks
And acknowledge that #blacklivesmatter just as much!

From the ground up

From the ground up...
(penned February 10, 2017)

I am so a part of God
And He is so a part of me
We cannot be separated
Even Paul said
Neither death nor life
Nor height nor depth
Shall separate me
From God's Love,
And because God is Love
I cannot be separated from Him.


He built me from the ground up
He took dust
And in the loving loom of His Fingers
Knit a suit and formed me.


To be sure it was the perfect fit,
He breathed His own breath into me
To make sure every nook and cranny
Was filled
Fully filling me
With
His
Own
Self.


Because I am bone of His Bone
I cannot be broken,
Except by Him.
And should He need to do so
He is the Healer and the Potter
To bring me back to wholeness.


I am flesh of His Flesh
Born to greatness
A child of the King
Supreme DNA
Is my makeup
I am made from the strongest stuff.


I am the apple of His Eye
He leans to hear my call
I am embedded in His Heart
Placed squarely in His Palm
Under His constant gaze


I receive a daily infusion of grace
As I am washed in the water of His Word.
His angels encamp around me
And goodness and mercy are my cleanup crew.

I am, after all, His Workmanship,
The chick to His Hen,
The clay to His Potter.
Why wouldn't He take such care?
He built me from the ground up...

Proud to be me (penned Aug. 7, 2016)

Proud to be
The woman I am
Proud to wear
The skin I'm in
Proud to go
Against the grain
Proud to never
Quite fit in!

I like me!
I love me!
I'm proud to be
So much like me!

Hormonal Rain

(originally penned July 29, 2016)

Yesterday's rain
Jumpstarted the river
Into puberty
Because it was swollen
And overstepped its bounds!

She grew tired (originally penned December 10, 2016)

She grew tired
Tired of waiting
Waiting for the wrong one
One who wasn't right
Wasn't right for her
For her self esteem
For her peace of mind
For her ambitions
For her life

She grew tired
Tired of waiting
Waiting for her life to begin
To begin with him
With him always away
With him always out
With him always misbehaving
With him always doing wrong

She grew tired
Tired of waiting...

So she began packing
Packing her pride
Packing her joy
Packing her faithfulness
Packing her love

She packed it all up
And wrapped it
In her self worth
When she found
She was worthless to him

She grew tired
So she packed up
And left
Left him
Left him wondering
Wondering why
Why was she upset
When all he was being
Was himself

He made no pretenses
He made no promises
He gave no false hopes
He gave no illusions

But she saw
With hopeless hopefulness
What she wanted
Wanted him to be
Even though he told her
"I can only be me."

She had given herself
To hopelessness
Hoping against hope
Hopeful, yet hopeless
She knew in her heart
That he was not
Not right for her
For her hopes were too high
And he made no effort
To reach them

So she's packed up her hope
What little there is
Pasted on a smile
And went to face life
Again