In the valley of my blackness
I hear music, marimbas and cowbells,
drum calls emanating from the depth of my dark longing
where I will dance in cosmic ecstasy
giving and receiving life
never ending.
Never more alive or less.
hot blood spilled forever
on the earth for future generations
waiting
in the valley of my blackness.
Beautiful in its mystery.
Music and mystery growing
in flower gardens of
multicolored innocence
and endless waters of rebirth
where God wears many faces
and death sits like a lady,
waiting
on quite rivers banks
to take her children home.
from Sketches, published by West End Press