A poem to the true woman

     If someone would have told me that there was no beauty on this earth i would believe them. My old mind would struggle to see through the dusty pictures in my head called memories where heartache not only made a home but became the landlord itself.

      If someone would have looked me in the eye and told me love was dead, my old mind would have believed them. Reminiscing on days where my heart would tiptoe in the chambers of love so as not to awake it before its time and when i eventually woke it i would blame it for waking up and toss it away to share a trash can right where my dreams of love lay. Fast forward several years of being introduced to tears that only men know, those that trickle down a centimeter per hour slowly mourning the death of my old mind, rest in pieces. I begun to rethink my stance and rework my dance in preparation for the day one would tell me that love is dead and i would jump at the chance to defend and make amends for the time my perceptions would twist and bend because of a healing i craved to run to while facing a dead end until one day, somebody told me David, love does not exist. 

     They told me real women were a thing of the past, a myth only reserved for books like Ruth and Esther and how all they do these days is pester. In that one moment, i could feel my flesh, the same flesh i thought was dead and gone trying to rise and sound a horn and burst in affirmative but i felt held back. My spirit couldn't let me as i envisioned sistas in my church toil and pray, bruise their knees each day, grow their spirits, face process in the ovens to get their daily bread and instead of moving their bodies form a body submitted to the head. I could picture my mother teach me to be a good man to prepare for a great lady, to be a man not just of my word but his word. Right then my spirit burst forth and begun to proclaim, sista, you who are smoother than the sounds of jazz and blues, yes you sista who when they try to chain your womanhood i watch your spirit refuse. I see your eyes that have stared down tornado's yet your gaze quells the most tempest of seas in the hearts of men. 

     Who else is known to have the grace to walk slow and think fast, love strong and outlast they may call you an out cast because the man came out first but Adam is the only man to have come out without your birth and all other men including your haters all came from you and without you would have no worth. They may tease your emotions but only when a man wins them over will he say he is qualified for unrivaled promotion.  

Obscure men define you as socialites and video vixen but you are the social light pointing to the one that is risen. Your groom, he who loves you so much he had to break from that tomb and as a result only you woman can raise life by hugging and enveloping purpose in your womb.

  

     Do not despise yourself oh mothers of the world, you who nurture nature never neglecting new life, light, love, loyalty all make up your DNA, they may say what they say about looks, shape, hair and worth but without you woman there is no unblemished church. You are the pillars of the house, 

You are a healer, pealing away shame from wounded and broken men after battle has strangled our hope, 

Beauty wrapped in the Holy Ghost, you are not lesser because you came from mans rib cause see man had to act fast because if he didn't all of nature would have called dibs.

So arise as the queens as you are, the best part of the story and with your pores flooding out eternal glory. No one messes the woman, fine and divine with a garment of righteousness as it's the trinity that dresses the woman.

     We the men who have been delivered are like quivers, arrows that shoot truth to the hearts of those who doubt you, you are worthy. No amount of Nicki Minaj or Rihanna flossing flesh can compare to the beauty you hide under a fully covering dress. See yes love was dead it bled went 40 days without being fed was tired and weak but still led then laid its life instead of screaming YOLO instead and in the very same fashion of action it resurrected to show love was more than an emotion but a person and from the bottom of our heart and the one rib remaining, we covenant to love you in a world where love is in training till the day we are glorified, from husband to wife, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters in this life, till we both graduate to be one bride in Christ.