theblackpoets:Mother Earth Wants To Have A TalkI will my locs to grow touching them where it’s soft
theblackpoets:Mother Earth Wants To Have A TalkI will my locs to grow touching them where it’s soft at the beginning near the rootstwo texturesone never more prominent than the other and I think of an underbelly and I want to protect it;it reminds me of old times and I miss gravity deficient hair with its wild ways.Even with the stress and time consumption; I feel the need to remember her.The few thin ones scare me for I’m sure they’ll break easily and I want to baby themfed until their health prospersand they need to thicken up before they get left behind and they need to learn the way of things.I have a longer loc by each ear that my mother calls my Amish whiskers I call them my over achievers and they always have a way of showing offand the other tresses would do good to follow the leader after themlest the two keep passing the manyand I know it’s not right to pick favorites. I have a pair that is a fork in the road or Siamese set where one can’t survive with the other; so now they co exist. I envision mother;full of child.Hear my words and make sense of them let my voice bring you comfort not angst my health is your healthlet it bring you justice. -- source link