She swings her arms towards the blue painted skies up in glory
while her blood belly-roles through her veins

She struts her steps toward the running brooks of happiness
while her memories are still strawberry fresh and sweet
in her teacake virgin hands

She washes her summertime face filled with airy springtime tears
down in hallelujah stomps made from her sistahs paving the way

She gets on up and shakes herself off and sifts the golden nectar
of her straying thoughts as the drippings escape like brown mollassy syrup into her fiesty heart

She dances while the evening dew is still wet with hope
She runs before the morning cries in the face of her nakedness before the rhythmic chords break and the purple rains run grey again

copyright 2003