Skip to main content

Black Prayers

I am a woman. A black woman. A black woman believer. 
I cry out to God.
and wonder about all the other women
who cry out to God 
but wonder if he hears our prayers or catches our tears
because in the U.S. black tears seem to not matter
and in other countries, they cry out to God in other languages
and in head scarves
holding their dying children in their arms
while in the U.S. we are told to give more or
the private jet is needed in order
for us to have our turn in 
God's line
but my theology tells me
that He does not have a line
and He does hear
and He does see
and Vengence belongs to him
So we smile and keep praying and teaching and living and walking
and know that one day
It will be all right.
Even if we keep praying
and it seems the
silence
is deafening
and the divine
appears far away
on the other side of the world
tending to the prayers
of the ones 
shut out of country
because their skin
is a little too black
even if
the ones
shutting them out
have the same black skin
so the prayers of the women
the black women
keep going
and going
hoping that the one
who sets the moon at night
and causes the sun to rise
will answer her prayers
before
another
black
child
dies

Comments

Unknown said…
This is absolutely gorgeous, Taye. Wonderful imagery.

Popular posts from this blog

Standing On The Side Of The Road

"Standing On The Side Of The Road" I am standing here on the side of the road -  Trying desperately not to be seen It is the middle of your busy day You do not notice me with your latte Guarding against the cold wind- Frozen inside outside walking here and there No mansion or house to put my belongings, no one to care- I am standing here on the side of the road- Not the trash you just tossed away That latte and uneaten muffin, my only meal today Standing here, shivering in the city alone No one to shelter and love me in the biting cold You are busy, I know, but see me please Life is not pleasurable or one of simple ease I once had a home and a family too Rushed through life, busy like you Forgotten and discarded in the corner cafe Wishing for more than your morning latte My only hope, made it last all day Trying hard not to be in anyone's way Standing on the side of the road It is where I live, where I grow old Please remember when you rush by T

Janet Riehl Talks With Taye' Foster Bradshaw About Emotion Behind Writing "Sightlines"

I am pleased to welcome Janet Riehl to my blog today. We sat down to chat, writer to writer, about her recent work and more about some of the feelings behind the work. I met Janet Grace Riehl through an open mic sponsored by the St. Louis Writers Guild. St. Louis is sort of a small town, and so our paths continued to cross as writers. Today I’m one of the hosts on Janet’s two-month internet tour. You can see the entire calendar for the tour on Janet’s site Riehlife: Village Wisdom for the 21st Century The previous post on this tour was an interview with Eden Maxwell Janet’s 2006 book Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary is now an audio book titled “Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music.” In addition to the 90 poems Janet reads from her book, these are interwoven with old-time music played in her father’s parlor, along with her father’s stories, and banter from the music session, giving us a complete context. Taye' Foster Bradshaw (Antona): How do you write? Tell m

We Must Change By The Hand

Deny Destroy Defer Disgrace Dreadful Double Speak Death Destruction Demon Devil We must change, we must change, we must change.  Children should not die at the hands that hold weapons such as these.  We must change.  Rights are not rights to slaughter. Nonsense in mass murder. Cowardice in suicide. Children should not die at the hands that hold weapons such as these. 12/14/12...not again...my heart hurts for Newtown Connecticut and the 20 children and 6 adults murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School.