Mothering Poetry

I’m trying not to overshare but there is so much passion in this poem that I had to share it….

Visionarie Place is Freedom

She had moved in- reconnecting endings, like shadows following us.

Rising, to make amends, telling of her memoirs-

thoughts of he, thoughts of she,

Never losing the weight -she sacrificed her dreams.

Mothering -to make the lights turn on.

Mothering, to keep that heat- singe every fiery demon within.

Mothering our names,

Mothering our pelvic rhythms,

Mothering my veins,

Mothering my wings that one day I might overstand the outcomes.

My people gave the earth it’s dirt, my people are like you

wanting to survive –

wanting life as privilege,

wanting to taste goodness, like galaxies

wanting joy like religion,

wanting love, like sweet Serengeti,

wanting their freedoms like you….

View original post