The African symbology that embodies me forces my soul to awaken

and find strength in truth.

A wise elder once spoke to me and then blessed my eyes with

an honorable path to freedom.

As I apporached my fourth life cycle,

I knew that death was on the horizon.

Not knowing in what shape or form would follow,

my abilities to believe became hollow.

The parables and watered down passages simply would not do.

And when I began to focus – my sixth sense awakened,

I discovered pointed tops of the Nubian in clear view.

But as with all good things, the mirage faded and I was faced

with a cold reality.

Northern borders began to shackle me.

Decieved by a batting eyelash and soft humor

Over time, I became a constant rumor.

Hitting and quitting wasn’t even my style,

But the passive aggressive nature was intense and vile…

All the while,

Frustrated and sick and tired of bipolar

nut jobs who think they are sane,

I have grown weary of the up and down attitudes.

Blaming and shaming,

Projecting and reflecting.

Hurt and sad,

Always mad and playing the victim role.

Needs to be told how to own her own history,

her story went from

Greatness to shackles,

We then witnessed the fall of a race of soldiers and nurturers.

Being sold into bondage by the lost tribes

And gladly bought by thugs called explorers

My symbol, blesses me, protects me and tests me. She is earth divine.

Never let’s me down and reveals the devils of the day.

Those who often fall astray.

Those who are fools of the own experiences.

Boastful or bashful – Insecure, either way.

Ready for the rescue.

The heart yearns for love.

But she must learn how to give it,

With loyalty and humility and stealth.

But arrogance led the charge and

She hit the ground with a thud.

As she lay in the mud

she looked up through tight eyes and distorted vision

And finally realized,

the heaven of which she sought was within her reach

And that the hell that she despised, was all in her mind.

And I… will not rest.. until she is past her pain.