Keep knowing I’m not done yet!

As rough as the grains of garri.

As smooth as the mold of eba.

This collection of lists to keep.

A collection of cares so deep.

Unclear what I’m doing.

But doing so with clarity.

Honest, honesty.

Of life as a mother.

Life as a health researcher too.

All in a time of a pandemic.

Where our ways do not connect.

Our writings do not fulfill.

What hearts and souls need.

So I continue to continue.

Radically open to new forms of brewing.

All still as rough as grains of garri.

But slowly turning to be as smooth as the mold of eba.

Lol. This is my attempt at poetry writing. I have been expanding my writing with poetry, trying to fuse my life as a mother, as a researcher using words that connect. I long to break free from the prison science writing has kept me in for too long. I’m in the mood for my writing to move beyond the space we call science. To move beyond the limits of the journals in our field. To reach people, especially those that look like me. Those in search of ways to find healing. I’m in the spirit to reach you and teach you. That our healing is a collective experience. Ours is a journey we can begin together, begin too from a place of love, whether different or the same. I’ll rather you stay just as you are. Stay different if it pleases your soul. I have no answer. Nothing I have been taught will free us from the prison we find ourselves. So I’m in the mood of going along the journey together with you. Watching as you discover all that is in you. All that is in me too. Listening and learning because we choose this path. Holding our hands together through the struggles and triumphs. I expect the struggles and I hope you prepare for them too. But most of all I am prepared to love us and I choose this place as our starting point. Plus the light that came to Lucille. And we are not done yet. We will continue to continue. Where we have been, all our lives is where we are going. With this collection of cares, this collection for us we begin to keep with love.

My teacher through poetry is the sterling Lucille Clifton.

With Black History Month coming up, I will try my best to perfect write poems, not as luxury, but to pay homage to many beautiful, black, gifted writers, that have gone to their heavenly rest. These they all did theirs best, I am entirely grateful that their words remain for all of us to keep. The next month is dedicated to keep words from them for me, for you.

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