To the Women of color in my life who’ve lead and guided me in this walk. To the God of faithfulness and everlasting grace. To my beautiful black son, James–you are an amazing light.
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Brown hands hold
Contrasting against the paleness of mine.
My grip holding
So tight—
Closing my eyes to the ever unfolding
Stories and wrongs that
Transcend belief.
Lord, how long have you heard
The cries of black mothers?
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Lord, forgive my pride
Seeped in self-worth.
My strength—
Derived in privilege.
My rosy glasses
Glossing over 400 years of abuse.
Thinking that I know enough
That change will happen
While I sit with hands folded.
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Lord, mend us.
Let them hear:
I cannot BREATHE.
Enough is enough.
Let them see my son
When he is grown
As beautiful.
As created in your image.
As worthy.
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Lord, help me to let go.
Trust—that you love my black son
More than this heart pumping inside my breast
That bleeds with our lost sons
Tamir
Michael
Ahmed
Names I cannot name—
Their mothers who also weep.
Hear our cries, O Lord.
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Lord, guide my heart.
Break down my anger for those
Who Choose not to see the inequality.
Who Say they don’t see color.
Don’t See the injustice.
The Layers of dark cruel history
Defining the unconscious designs
That my son stands upon
And defines his future and lifespan.
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Lord, help me to see my son grown.
Preserve his beautiful joy
His sensitive spirit
His fulfilling promise as a son of the King.
Let not his head be bowed to anyone but You.
Protect his head, his heart
From the impending weight
That shackles his brothers.
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Mercy, rain down on all of us.
lady b 