a strong silent power,
rising steady and certain.
putting in the honest work,
day in and day out.
our feminine nature
is the kind of persistent presence
that withstands, and outlasts
life's constant challenges.
eternally exceeding expectations,
we overcome, we succeed,
we grow.

You can be a boulder,
Unmoveable, hard, stoic;
But every stone is permeable,
And the water gets in
To make the rock sand...
Soft, malleable,
With indistinguishable grains.

I know others who swim
Against adversity to spawn in the current.
They believe destination is destiny;
Focussed, driven with tunnel vision.

Some face adversity like a roller-coaster.
When things are going north, all is good;
But they throw up their arms and scream
When going south.

I will catch the west wind,
Change course if necessary,
Tack across the white caps of roiling waters.
I will steer the rudder towards my East.

Cultural enclaves
Multi granular igneous rock
Heat and compression
Lava pools surrounding mineral stones
Granite
The development of will in its distinction
It is strong
It is powerful

With just a bit of coaxing, she would sit up and recite
A poem she'd known since grade school, her eyes so clear and bright

Sometimes she'd need a little nudge to get her to begin.  "When mother puts her apron on", she'd say with a small grin...

...and off she'd go reciting each line flawlessly, with ease
Then when she'd end, her mind would seem to go, as if a breeze
Had ushered it away from us as quickly as it came
And then she wouldn't know the poem, nor anybody's name

But with that came a kind of blessing, at least I know of one
She may not have understood, full well, the loss of Jim, her son
But now, Miss Maudie's free from mortal flesh and bone
And those she loved, who've gone before are welcoming her home

Once more she will caress the man who held her hand in marriage
And now, again she'll hold the son she once strolled in a carriage.

They'll watch us as we travel down this wandering path of life
Rejoicing in our triumphs and supporting us through strife


And we know that they'll be there, waiting on the other side
When at last we've reached the journey's end, of this our earthly ride.

I am the river atop the mountain,
I am the boulders down below.
I am the jagged cliffs above,
I am the fine grains of snow.

I bend along the mountain
those rocks steer my course.
Rushing white river rapids
blaze the trails from thy source.

The mountain face,
sculpted by river sands.
Waves smooth sharp edges,
creator of lakes and land.

Persistence through ashlar and slate,
water rushes down the banks.
Long withheld at the stone gate,
bursting floods make their escape.

From afar, beauty to be bestowed.
Chaotic in all it's necessity.
I am that which must be controlled.
I am the will of adversity.

She sat on the shelf
Admiring the other dolls,
She'd been there for some time.
Watching the other dolls come & go.
The only one not wrapped in plastic.
She thought her self ugly
The other dolls never staying long.
The kids & their parents quickly by passing her.
Grabbing the dolls wrapped in box & plastic.
Although very beautiful she'd sit and contemplate the worst.
Watching the other dolls come & go.
The little black doll not wrapped in plastic.
She grew resentment.
Finding the only difference was in how she was made.
Her brown skin, her black hair.
She so longed to be taken to a loving home.
She didn't come with any accessories.
The vanity that came with the other dolls.
Her smile printed across her face.
Over time it became hard for that smile to stay.
Often crying when the lights turned off and the store closed.
She wanted a home just like the other dolls.
Quickly picked up,
Hurried over to the register.
She longed to be like all the other dolls.
Watching them all come and go.
Their hair tied behind their head.
All the make up and accessories sealed in their package.
It wasn't until one of the other dolls was returned.
Damaged.
Half stuffed into the package.
When she spoke to the other doll,
She discovered that not all homes are what you think.
Seeing how rough she was played with.
The rough marks across her face, her hair no longer tied in the package ponytail.
It wasn't until then that she realized that the best things come with time.
Finding the best home in herself
Beautiful black doll
Taken home to meet the girl she'd be with forever

the house across the street
has been empty
for years
because the landlord can’t afford
to tear it down
or build a new one
and it won’t pass inspection

one lamp stays on
all day
all night
to deter the copper thieves
or any other broken soul
seeking shelter
from the streets

a child runs across the splintered floor
his feet black as tar
stinking of mildew and *****
a mother sinks into her soiled chair
but she tries

a trust-fund recipient rides his jet-ski
his oiled body
tanned and toned
a father, gleaming, takes a photo
and he flaunts

everyone has their own place in the world
in a trailer park
in a tent
in a split-level home
in a shelter
in a palace

but never on the pavement
beaten down
like a poorly-trained dog
blamed for the errors
of its master