Tuesday, March 22, 2005

for wanda alston

police cars on 16th
media perched
searching for parking
sanctuary full
standing room only
i climb upstairs...
hug from Shak
-long time no see-
squeeze in & step quietly
into balcony
...full room, many ages shapes sizes
another familar face here...
the room feels warm,
the air,
with purpose...

wow...what an amazing woman. i didn't know her personally, but i wanted to express my gratitude for the work she has done in the GLBT community...and being a sistah, i felt it all the more imperative that i be there...if for no other reason than to gain strength for this mission. and gain strength i did.

lately, i've been feeling like divine things have been happening in my life...great people, new opportunites, great people who just happen to already know the other great people...of course, there are always divine things happening in my life, but perhaps lately my eyes have been opened a little bit wider, to take note...Maybe it's the moon...maybe my saturn return...Whatever the case, i am grateful.

i was reminded the other day: "to whom much is given, much is expected"...These spiritual words are so true...&i thank the Creator for the gifts i've been given: music, poetry, empathy & healing...as i listen to someone read the scripture, saying "here I am; send me", i feel it...in my heart, my throat, my eyes, i feel it...i get it. Wanda most certainly got it...she took on the responsibility of caring for those around her...she was a light in various communities. She "spoke truth to power", and was a force to be reckoned with. i want to be like her...(&in my enlightened moments,) i AM like her..My only hope right now is that we as a community will not only grieve and heal, but "do something"...Continue the work that Wanda did...because certainly...there is much to do.

Thank you for listening to your heart, Wanda...and for making the path just a little bit clearer, for the rest of us.

...rest in peace.

ashe' and Amen.

2005 © janetta scales

Saturday, March 05, 2005

gradschool query #96

how come all my

only add up to
twenty cent?

a poem by j. scales
2000 © janetta scales