Tonight I thought of you As I drive through rain filled streets Street lights blink on and off Their colors stretching out their fingers Of blues and reds and whites I prayed for your mama For courage and strength To endure these last weeks Before making the biggest decision of her life I long to know who you are And to know the lines of your face The smile that will light your face I love you. *written week before meeting my eldest
Category: babies
Can You Hear Them Now
Strength in Holding. Strength in Loving. Strength in Growing. Strength on Knees. Strength in Grasping. the Hands surrounding the anguished and tired Voices of families Reaching throughout echoing off deaf walls ears stuffed with cotton. the blood of our brothers our sons our daughters continues to drip drip drip no more comfort can warm them now Say Their Names. Can you see yet? the pain in their eyes the hurt and twisted reminders the empty spaces in pictures hanging sedately on walls. remembering. the summer heat no longer warming smiling faces— the Strength the Pride in roots in a beautiful Color so Deep so Warm a story. a history of Survival. Our brothers Our sons— Our daughters whose blood continues to drip drip drip Can you hear them now? Say Their Names. I dream of a tomorrow. when my heart won't clench at the thought of my son driving. walking. being stopped pride subdued to a curb head lowered in submission. strength helpless with hands shackled. a tomorrow where my daughters’ bodies are not seen as a commodity where their strength will be praised-- not diminished. their voices strong, steady-- not questioned because of their sex and color of their beautiful skin. i pray their identity will cling only to Him-- who made their bodies to jump and dance. who created their minds to constantly querying about their world. who created my son's passionate heart. who lovingly knitted his strength and size. who sees his masterful beauty where others will see a a deadly misnomer: thug lazy violent ultimately: a Life not worth fighting for. stereotypes-they hang about Necks nearly lowered to grounds soaked with a history of discrimination. drip drip drip Can you hear them now? Say Their Names. Enough.
A White Mother’s Plea For Her Black Son
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?
.
.
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.
.
.
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.
.
.
Mercy, rain down on all of us.
dpp 5
lights
super cold and rainy. under lots of blankets currently dreaming of hot cocoa.
we have recently started a go fund me for our adoption process. if interested, give here.
lady b 