Once upon a time, I ask my mother;
Mama, why are the Black People
so different, and why are there
so many different shades of color
in our people

Mama replied;
Boy, do you know,
there is a place,
East of Eden
where Black Folks
are a Rainbow Race

Then a smile glowed
as bright as the mourning sun
across my brown chocolate face

There was no sign of him
*But he was everywhere

To dream of love is to find ones self
lifting pebbles in a field full of rocks
gazing through a mist of souls
searching through moonbeams
hiding in shadows that have never been cast
shining eyes through a blood red haze
drifting through these crystal days
gods that dream in the autumn light
slender arms on a  cold winters night
calm the rhythms of this eternal dance
as hearts take flight in a cerebral trance.

"But I tell you that men will give an account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken."

There's a feeling I get when I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.

A single red rose can say so much
it can touch emotion right where it hurts
can unlock silence it can shed tears
it brings a warmth, takes away fear
locking tears in its petals,
never to be released.
Its heart.  A crumpled heart feels the pain
A cold heart. The petals protect that
like it will serve you.
With emotion.  With a delicate touch.
It will absorb the hurt.  You will know.
Locking it in.  The feelings froze.
The belief in the single red rose.