Wave Of Hair

born with hair slightly wavy as summer sea's crest, Mom would treat it as her morning decor ritual--- ponytailed, pinned at the crown with zigzag of ribbons, braided two-ways, and god knows what arrangements followed--oh yes, the old maid bun! jet black , it flowed down past shoulders; the envy of high school.girls as we started to soiree and party...like so, by 2000, my lattice of curled tresses met its waterloo: silky, straight locks invaded mod media, downgrading my status as a hometown freak... my Nicole Kidman jive looking passe! I remember fanatically calendaring regular visits to a stylist-- a rite abhored in young adolescence... yes, magic of fad can be done; from brazilian rebond, collagen tweaks, highlights in tints of raspberry or maze and more top shot brouhahas just to be part of the scene! yet, few seasons back, i began missing myself... though shoulder length locks inhabited me; i grew forlon, empty. Imagining how Mom ran her fingers down my young hair, I chose to let my tresses flow without restraint--- jet black even through bright hues of moonlit passages and dawn's sequined, golden rise. now. air- tossed, wind blown, hand- caressed, aloe- rinsed with few organic whips, I sweep my hair in its free flow movement -- allowing the me to be the natural woman I am.