Loving
Saturday mornings
when there’s coffee
and sun showers
filtering through old windows
when it’s clean
when there’s flow
when I’m writing
while the house is still, quiet.
When age-old griots inspire
and new-age poets remember
we share our tales and stories
make them tall and personal
women writing
remembering
sharing
flowing
my ancestors dance inside me
beckon me to finish
welcome me to the circle
“the floor is yours”, they say
“you, yes you”
the oldest sway
nods yes
no words are spoken
no need
the middlers hold court
we make merriment
Our dresses laugh
make sport of rainbows
for we are so much more colorful and beautiful
radically unscripted
even in our quiet
in our regaling
we affirm each other
our individual might
our stealth
our silent strength
We are power
yet it’s me
who’s made anew.
Life As An Art Form 
Great tribute to all the sistas out there!
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Nice thoughtful prose. ‘Making sport of rainbows’ is an engaging line.
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Us women tend to do that when we dance, don’t we? Thanks for visiting and reading, Talia. I look forward to reading more of your work.
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A lovely tribute to women.
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Because we are indeed lovely, aren’t we? Thanks, Nadine!
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