Today, I’ll be sharing a beautiful poetry piece by my very talented friend, Waksy. The first piece I’ll be sharing is about the magic of a woman. I hope you enjoy and if you’d like to see more of her work click here.
I have never seen such extraordinary magic
as a woman that weaves her suffering
A woman that has the heart
of a lion and the soul of
A woman clothed in the darkness of the night.
She is the Mother of my People.
Of your People.
Of our People.
The ancestors have preserved themselves
in the tightness of her curls
in the nooks and crannies of her ample flesh
in the dark red of her blood.
Her skin is a hiding place
of a history that they tried to erase.
Her skin is almost as old as Time Himself.
Her skin remembers, her skin is testimony.
The Ancestors protect her in spite of a world that insists on making an effort to destroy her.
She has survived
the blunt cruelty of her People’s history.
She is surviving
the current time.
She will survive
what is yet to arrive.
Wakonyo A. Gachanja.
“She is clothed with strength and dignity and she laughs without fear of future.” Proverbs 31:25
Be Love and Be Light,