"Her candle goeth not out by night..."

she is
a
woman of
substance,
strength,
delighting in
the Lord...

she is galvanized,
honed,
polished
after
the similitude of
a palace

long before
maya
sang of a
phenomenal woman...
the span of her hips,
and
the stride of her step...
there was
barbye...

she came into my
life like
molasses cookies and
sweet tea on
a missisippi
porch
one winter's
day
in Boston.

she was stronger than
an oak tree,
but as resilient and
flexible as
willows in
a storm

motherhood
was the color of her
skin and
sang from the
depths of her eyes

before long
I wanted
whatever she had...
it was
palpable,
visceral,
real...

young sons,
the gentle sway of her
steps,
laughter that
coursed through
your veins, and

courage...
oh yes,
I wanted her
courage...

"her candle
goeth not out
by night..."

she floated
above the
pettiness,
she swam easily with
sharks,
she fed snakes
the honeycomb and 
rose petals
that
fell from her
lips...and
they
were
calm...for a while...
but she
never gave up...
she never
gave
in

maya knows
why the caged
bird sings,
but barbye
sings the
songs
that caged birds
only dream
of one day
hearing...

she is
as full of forgiveness
as the stream that
bursts its banks and
floods the
plain

she is as generous
with her
mercy as
she is
genuine,
authentic,
honest, and
true.

to
her husband
she is
blessed, 

her children
see the world
through  the kindness 
of her vision,

her grandchildren
feel the
softness of her cheek...
the tenderness in
her eyes,

her daughter-in-law
calls her in a
voice that
every
mother
aches to
hear...
for she is
loved

I call her
friend.