She Is On Her Way

She'll be rather willing to be burnt on the stakes forgotten than sleep and wake in the jailers chains watching her purpose gather up dust. Rake her charred remains heap upon heap among others that died trying She'll smile till the last, pleased. Call her weak and wait but a week for a shocker to be hatched up her sleeves Her make up is as good as war paint In the battlefield of her mind She'll smile - you'll think the sun is tucked in her mouth. Strong woman walking carelessly over weighed rules drunk with queenly demand as she staggers you'll hear the music her feet makes crushing beneath her feet old paintings of black woman. Piece by piece where the moon is absent to grace the nightsky She'll complete the puzzle of the woman in her dreams. The wildest panthers are not odds enough to stop her Conquest drums drums hard in her chest that they'll flee cowardly. She has stopped feeding her past with her precious tears She can hear destiny clearer now Time now whispers than weep Imploring, beckoning She'll blow a kiss to heaven from her bed giving a million reasons like arms of jealous lovers to keep her unexplored. Her generation groans She hears them from the future They cry for water They cry for fire For a worthy one who has gone through them She is on her way with the strides of a big cat. There is no need to believe in her where grace flows ceaselessly to reassure her. Adore her sores Not weep ruefully Its for the shore Beulah. Through your telescope you will watch her Sit on the brightest of stars with teary eyes still caught looking up to God.