Ode To The Black African Woman


“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for his love is better than wine.

I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar,

as the curtains of Solomon.”

The Song of Solomon 1:2&5

He heard my cry!

He heard my cry!

Graciously the noon day sun hath kissed me upon my lover’s bed.

His rays cover me, and I am like the melting of auburn; like the golden-brown wheat fields of ancient Egypt.

My thoughts are upon the cries of the lilies; with my ears I hear them…weeping in the night.

My hairs are the pillars of a great tower: a tower of strength and potency.

I have dove like eyes: eyes of innocence that sees through generations of sore bitterness.

I know the sweet perfumes of loneliness, they are like the frangrances of a bouquet of forgotten petals I breathe in everyday.

Two rows of succulent delicacies are my lips, moist and tender; they speak the words of truth.

Truly my shoulders have borne a great burden that none did rise to lighten the load.

So I raised my arms and lifted my hands, heaven bound I set my gaze to part the curtains of Glory’s Throne and call out His name!

Prostrate I laid my breast upon the heart of his soul, and from the depth of my belly I sent forth groans and moans from the spoiled tents of Kedar.

I stood up upon the strength of His Word and backed my assurances upon the decree that He can never lie!

And then I ran…I ran with all my might!

I ran into the city and into the hillside, into the country and every village; I shouted with joy and I danced a holy dance.

I picked up His Banner and I clothed me with Righteousness; and that’s when I saw Him…coming,

Coming like the noon day Sun -rising from the east with legions of mighty men.

And I knew; that’s when I knew, the Real One True Amun-Ra (Amen-Ra, Sun ‘Son’ God) was coming!

It was in that moment that I knew He heard my cry; the moment where I saw:

The Blood rushed to the place that hurt the most, the moment where:

The Blood of The Convenant became thicker than The Water of The Womb.

It was that very moment…

When The Hurt & The Healer collided!

Ode To The Black African Woman in “A Poet’s Heart”

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