sings of freedom'- Maya Angelou
Songstress is a bird's song
in a woman's throat
She, holds the world at her right shoulder
and cradles the rest away. Vain, and sinking
Her thoughts roam as she stands for riddance
Between the basket of food and thought
Let them be what they want
She cooks the whole neighborhood
deserts squeezed out of the milks of her breast
and leaves space for cherries on top.
She makes of living a possibility without
a need for a charade
Life is simple-
Let it be then
A seamstress she kneads of words
cloth to cover her boy
and leaves the yarn spools
running
trailing
surpassing races and gender
and the blinking moments
She emerges, rising like dustier winds
A phenomenal, pillar of a free bird
Let it fly,
to the vast skies she soars:
A perfectly made woman.
Maya Angelou (1928-2014), one of my idols in writing, Rest in Peace.
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