The bronze paper door opens slowly
They lead her into the room
She's about ninety in this play
Called "Meet the Mother, Mary"
Much about her we find unsung
But not her matchless Son--
He was the jolly Preacher Man,
Young rebel a crowd once hung.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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