my prayer. meditation. vision.

Oh how to keep the fruit on my tree of life from falling off prematurely, being picked at by crows and other ravenous creatures, and only blossoming flowers when I or Father/Mother Kreator wills… and to keep my trunk from withering and chipping away before it’s time, branches triumphantly spread out like the wings of Isis ready to take flight… sharing a leaf with the winds, rains and other natural elements here and there…just for good measure, with my roots firmly tucked into the rich soils of my heritage…

Oh to be young, gifted and black – Gold-en-sightful brown: from the blessings of RA, the sun…
YET still humble, in the shadows… sitting in the footsteps of our ancestors who walked before me.

So that my seeds will continually be nourished, loved and eventually implant themselves in the soils of Truth. Justice. Righteousness. Reciprocity. Balance. Harmony. and Order.

Ase’ Hetep. Ago. Ame. Nuk Pu Ntr Hmt. Tua Ntr!
In all the languages of our ancestors, I give thanks.


One comment

  1. John Archer

    This is very good. I appreciate you putting this out. You certainly have a very poetic way with words. AND RA, hmm, Egypt. That’s very interesting that you put that in.

    Anyway – thanks for writing this. . ./John


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