The dreamer, and the dream. The heart awakened, with a renewed inspiration. To not let love, fade into the peripheral. The profound, the true meaning. Love’s truest expression, seen in a perfect light. Where reality is known, but the evidence never realized. Real love revealed, always be a beautiful reflection, more than superficial. Every day, we face the mirror. The look within, to be enlightened. What was, what is, what changes. So, your love can be a reflection, in life, in heart, in mind, in soul. The prism, with the lens exceeding, black and white. In the mirror, the colors of love, reflects its purest form. A splitting image, can evolve into splitting hairs, in a tainted perspective. If the ends, justifies the means. Love is an extension, not a buy product, it’s freely given. Love, never meant to be a shiny surface, but a deep impression. So the likeness resonates, being a true portrayal. A picture, with a thousand words. A mirrored love, a reciprocated demonstration, not a one sided reflection. A daily look in the mirror, refocuses the heart, beyond the imperfections. When love, needs to be a distinguishable display; for me it starts, with the man in the mirror. The innermost, brings into the light. What’s on the outside, your light will illuminate. The heart perceives, what the love concedes. It’s not show and tell, but in the image created. In the mirror, be a Reflection… of the truest love!
Family; people, or group of, deriving from a common race; the human. So, why are we so blind to see, that it’s not about eyes wide open, but a heart not closed… off, to the possibilities. True love, never needs a reason, to embrace… our differences. So, sheath tolerance, and instead wield expectance. We are, the same; “If pricked, do you not bleed? if tickled, do you not laugh?” So why not, let us live in peace, in harmony. So we can all live long, and prosper… together, in love. It doesn’t matter, if your love is the nearest. If family, why shouldn’t the love receive, be the dearest, we have to offer? Even though, we’re not always united, and though sometimes divided. We can still be, hearts connected, in our humanity. And why Not, love seen through the prism, makes us connected. The true color of love, makes the eyes color blind. So the heart, won’t be tainted. Real love, is endearing, heartwarming, life changing; when intentional, when unconditional. Red, yellow, black, white, and brown; we are, all precious… in love’s sight. How can I, not share with you my heart; when, we’re family. To be, or not to be, that is the question. A profound love story, will bring hearts together; one love. To help bear each others burdens, wipe each other’s tears. Make hopes and dreams, be love inner twined. Come closer, let love whisper into your heart and soul. For it will surely say, We Are, Family!
In the morning, when I rise; love, be every heartbeat, in the sands of time. When I drown, love will be the reason, I live breathless. And when time stands still, move my soul. Time after time, when desperation becomes the thirst. Love will be the water, to quench my heart’s desire. Shadows, they tell time, of what was. In times past, and what will surely be. Though, time slips through the hourglass. The hands of time, encounter seconds in bliss. Between the stillness of moments, a quarter past, or even at a quarter after. Love, doesn’t let a faithful soul, exhale. In the Am, in the Pm, at noon, at midday, or at midnight. Every twenty four hours, minutes in wait; the daylight saving, you breathtaking moments. What time is it, you ask? First, let me ask you this. Has your heart set time aside, every day; to know a deeper love? Time in words, can be written in numerals. Hours in love, never about counting minutes. Just the counted moments, your heart was held, in the depth of love’s timeless embrace. For, when time is no more. A half an hour, will seem a lifetime, holding on to memories. Time, waits for no one. Once it’s gone, the picture; likened to a thousand words. Reflecting, the times your heart let precious moments of love, slip away!
Through the sands of time, her heart beats endlessly. Her worth, not in question. For, the strength of her love, beyond words. The moon knows her essence, the stars gaze at her beauty. Her radiance, outshines the twilight, eclipses the moonlight. Her heart, a crimson rose. Her soul, bares an Angel, disguised. Her presence, endearing. Her quintessence, providence. Her personification, virtuous. Her head, crowns her meaning. Her feet, walks the miles. Her strength, profound. Her breath, ordained, to breathe new life. Her love, shaped by her heart. Her support, leaves no doubt. Her life, bears much fruit. Her purpose, indisputable. Her confidence, binds her resolve. Her inspiration, love unconditional. Her expression, depth of soul. Her armor, breadth of heart. Her beauty, found within. Her desire, give heart and soul. Her need, the freedom to be. Her celebration, internationally known. A woman’s worth, unquestionable. Her heart, tells the tale; Her Worth!
The love I feel, could never be mistaken. The heart searched, the love tested. The soul proven, to be genuine. Though, the heart deeply flawed. Love covers, ten thousand imperfections. Love’s presence, fathoms depth, examines breadth. Up close and personal, the essence, takes your breath. Real love, the foremost in proving. In love, assurances are worthless. If love is bought, with promises. But the heart and soul, not sold out. If the validation, the authentication, the elation. Are not replicated daily, in undeniable truth, the worth becomes meaningless. Possessing, a heart of gold. Never allowing your heart, to become bankrupt. Giving what may be seen in the light, as a Counterfeit Love!
My heart, constantly repositioned, being forever changed. My way of thinking, started with my heart, in the right place. Love, can move a heart so. Every expression, can seem a bit dramatic, a bit over the top. I don’t need, my love to be in a perfect place. The desire, a heart in a forever place, you can sincerely call faithful. Obsessive, to be a heart forever true. Compulsive, show a love truly compelling. Disorder, don’t dis the order. You have to first, be faithful with a few things; so many, will be able to see, the shape of your heart. A name, tagged with a sticky one sided label. Will never allow, for the freedom of love’s true expression. Love, doesn’t have boxes, with a label placed over your heart. Thinking, your have a heart figured out. Limits how a moving love, can profoundly change… you. Desiring, an obsessively clean heart. May overwhelmingly, change a tainted perspective. A heart, focused on not being deterred. Will resist the urge, to not become the best version, of a faithful soul. You should never, compromise your heart. Lower your standards, just to fit in, to someone else’s vision. My heart won’t be pursued, to be moved by futile preferences. A permanent shift, has already taken place. Forever held, not a state of mind, but the state of the heart. Not with the uncontrollable desire, to fix what must be. Allowing your heart, to be constantly shifted. The love within, will be repositioned, enlightened, illuminated, undistracted. A heart in action, doesn’t need to be profoundly moved, for the love to be seen as true!
Every breath, cascading through the sands of time. Every heartbeat, moving within a graceful rhythm. Why grasp at straws, when love held dear, will always be. For the hands of time, can’t counter feeling, encountered with every moment. I hold on to endearing, breathe though my breath taken. My soul speaks, through love’s holistic tether. My heart sings, with breathless words. I grip reality, clench fist at heartache. Will carry the memories, they will never be a burden. I will cleave to love, and let the tears fall. They won’t break, my heart’s not made of glass. I cling to the cross, for life, beyond the moon and stars. Capturing, not about maintaining the memories, but the heart living, in the love retained. Kept, not the name’s sake, but what the love takes, you to a moment in time. From the cradle, to the grave, squeeze the love tight. With all your might, hold it forever. It will sustain, the love that remains, unchanged. Though, love bears the weight, profoundly know the breadth, even in death. The memories remaining, will stand the test of time, in life after breath. All at once, the realization; the smile, the laughter, the love, the embrace, just memories. A dove ascends, to the heavens, on the wings of our love. What remains, love living in the essence, in the shape of a heart!
Where has the year gone, a day that seems like yesterday. A little dove, with the heart of an angel, ascended to the heavens. A daughter, a sister, a friend, forever held in our memories, and in our hearts! In loving memory of my daughter, Justinea Angelina Richards. March 9, 1990, to March 2, 2021.
These hands, will raise the banner, display the One, with unfailing love. These feet, will walk the miles, to know the heart, of the ones who feel the pain. Be at the place, where the broken-hearted live. This voice, will speak for those being silenced, to have no voice. These tears, will forever flow. For the ones, who can’t cry anymore. These lips, won’t keep silent. Love speaks with authority, when the voice of truth. These eyes, will see the injustice, the wounds. The ones being deafened, suffering in the silence. This mind, will think of endless ways. How this heart of mine, can shine a light on love’s greatest treasure. The unselfish, unchanging, unconditional love. I’ve had to learn, how to stay in this place. Be available, be love extended. I, would have never known this place. If love didn’t first take me, from living in a silent river. To become a voice, loving in the wildness. Love, helped to lay it all down. For nothing else, can take its place. True love, wants you to be the heart, for every soul in need. Show love’s undying portion, for every soul you meet. A hand, reaches out. A heart, opens wide. The ears, hears the cries. The eyes, sees the need. The voice, speaks the Word. The lips, sings praise. Love, is the good news. Every hand and feet, it’s love in motion; the heart and soul, in action. Give love your will, and love will give your heart purpose. Let love, be your hands, your ears, your voice, your eyes, in your mind, and every breath. Say love, I’m available to You. Be my heart, so I can become, love to the least of These!
Since the dawn of time, whenever a Nubian queen, needed to address an unmanageable situation. She would set out on a quest, to the salon. The place, formally called; “the hairdresser.” To beautify, enhance her natural glow. The deNial, why would anyone; when her beauty, flows like a river. While there, she would surely become enlightened, with the latest news. For some, the wether or not, even if you didn’t ask for it. Forecasted, the possible hot tempered, or the possibility of the cold shoulder. What happens in the salon, would mostly be broadcasted… outside. My Nubian beauty, never felt the need to engage. Her heart, chose the path of virtuous. She would sit, on her rightful throne, with stylish fashion, make her intent known. Some queens, made the dialogue be, about establishing dominance. She, focused on the productive, what wasn’t toxic, to her crown. Sometimes, the beautify encounter seemed, like a sparring match; the bob, and the weave. You bear it, and grin, trying to keep the peace. The subjugation, reigning wayward thoughts!
Even though, weaving seems like a grudge match? Love, not about the upper hand. Loosening the grip, on love extended, eases the tension. To let your heart get tangled, up in a not so subtle exchange. The hairdresser, a name rarely used these days. The new title, is more stylish, sophisticated; “as a salon, and spa.” Where you go, to get your hair did, your nails did, your feet did, your face… did I mention? True beauty, resonates from within. A Nubian queen, have that “je ne sais quoi. (a quality, that can’t be easily described). Natural beauty, it’s a real ting; dem ah fi tek you serious. (they have to take you seriously) For, every beautified soul, showcases your presence, as royalty. A heart, looking so fly, like a graceful butterfly. Knowing, how to withstand pressure. Makes the resolve, a fabulous measure. Making you, wanting to grab your rag and wave, jamdown style. Caribbean queen, don’t ever throw in the towel. When you get home, love will be… forever. Though, life makes you feel, like you’re losing the fight, and your mind, with every tug on the heartstrings. Nubian, pray for strength, and you will, surely endure to the end(s)!
Nubian, “And after you, have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” 1 Peter 5:10 ESV
This piece, for all the black women. Who had to endure, every beautifying encounter, for love, and with grace. I originally, wrote this as a draft in 2015, not sure if I would post it. I was inspired to share it, by a piece I read about black hair. And so, I rewrote it, for black history month. My Nubian and I, have been married for 34 years, this May. Seeing her, go through the long sessions, and the process involved. Makes me appreciate, what women go through. Even though, this is tongue and cheek, and though some may not get the humor, or have never been through the experience. I wanted to honor, all the Nubian queens. For what they do to look their best, for themselves, and the ones they love!
Woke up this morning, and searched. My heart, wasn’t missed placed; my soul, being examined. X marked the spot, every found ray of sunshine. You see, every day; I dig deep, not to find my worth; to bury my pride. Make up my mind, to let love be, my everything. But, if truth be? I’m still learning how to breathe, while every breath is held. I don’t worry about tomorrow, I let tomorrow worry about itself. Every anxiety, the unknown, are put in there place. I am, no longer a slave to fear. When the rain falls, every tear, bottled up forever. I don’t, have a pity party. I look to the heavens, and dance in the reign. How much money in the bank, enough gas in the tank; let me be frank, I don’t worry about it. Food on the table, a roof over our head. My Father, supplies what we need. His love is my home, His wealth is my abundance, the promises are yea. Vertical, how my posture, lets my love get noticed. Woke up this morning; every praise, intentional. Every breath, with confidence. My heart, God’s got it!
A Love Story! 
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