Thoughts of a Black Woman

Thoughts of a Black Woman

Sweet,
  succulent as the first dew drops off of an African violet during the rainy season.
Fiery,
  and feisty as a dab of cinnamon as it set upon your palate, quenching
    your hunger, desire and thirst.
Tangy,
  as tantalizing as an infinite labyrinth carved of the souls of our ancestors.
The Black Woman.

From the south in the homeland of the Bantu,
  to those living in the metropolitan areas of America.
From those beautiful blue-black skinned goddesses roaming the desertside in Bedouin fashions,
  to the saints in the Caribbean & Latin America pounding out Calypso beats.
Starting with Queen Mother rage, Isis, the goddess of fertility,
  through the lineage of queens of BlackKind like Nefertari, Cleopatra, Makeda and Nzinga,
    along the lines of great rulers deemed Candace,
      to great warriors reminiscent of the amazons like Parks, Sanchez, Davis and Chesimard.
Coming to fruition with my mothers and my sisters,
   the present day queens of the physical plane.
The producers of the Black race as well as all mankind,
  giver of life to ancient kingdoms and civilizations such as Timeria, Cush, Kemet and Nubia,
    progenitors of kings such as Solomon, David, Chaka, Menelik II and Mansa Mussa,
      mother of Heru, Moses, King and Shabazz.

Respect me not because I am your mother, sister, companion and friend,
Respect me not because I have carried your seed and breathed life unto you,
Respect me not because I am the other half of life quintessential,
Respect me for me, and all that I encompass,
  my essence is unsurpassed by anything living or dead.
Only I can make you whole,
  the moon to your sun.
When you look into the deepest cavities of your heart and the confines of your soul,
  I am the answer and treasure which you seek.

Black Man, you seek everything and everything is me.

Respect me,
  Protect me,
    Treasure me,
      Honor me:
  The Black Woman.


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