I’m grateful you’re here!

I wrote a little poem on intergenerational family gift in a beautiful garden that BIPOC abolitionists tend to. I felt the Sun’s warmth on my face and thought of my grandmothers and their ancestors. 

I hope it delights your inner child and fills your heart cup…

Remember the spine that was once aligned.

Remember the heart that was once open with softness.

Remember the feet that were once rooted in dignity.

Remember the hands that once gave love, out of love, not for love.

Remember the eyes that once saw the divinity in our kins.

Remember the stomach that contracted from communal laughter, not from fear.

Remember the knees that once kneeled and kissed the Earth with gratitude.

Remember the tears that were shed from receiving kindness from a stranger.

Is there such a thing called a stranger?