Black women...

It is 7:45 pm and I am at home working on a poem. The intention of the poem is to eventually become part of a group piece with three other women. The title and prompt of the poem is "Black women are..." Being a black woman maybe you would think that the poem would just be falling out of my head in its finished draft. I have plenty of ideas but that's the challenge of the prompt and the wonder of black women. We are so much. So many. So varied.

This piece could go on forever. I could start with describing who I am as a black woman: brown, bald, tall, thick, artist, survivor, mother, photographer, lover of God, daughter, sister and dot dot dot. Then move on to describe my mother, and sister, my aunts, neighbors, friends and even after all of that I would have only shaded a very small group of black women. Now I know the request is only for me to share a few stanzas and it is not expected that I completely cover the spectrum of who we are in that space. But I will take this on as more than a few stanzas, more than group piece and poem. This is journey, a path to go down creating words and thoughts to the glory of who we are.