I couldn’t write for days – I had to quote pieces of poems. I had to sit in silence. I had to stay home. I couldn’t recall who I had been the moment prior to the announcement. I had changed in an instant and am indeed reborn. Don’t worry, it wasn’t hard labor. I have, for many years, foreseen the coming together of all peoples of all hue in the delightful work of healing the Planet and rekindling Love. Love has never been lost, just remembrance of it’s trans formative, all encompassing power.
However, this moment was spectacular. Not because at 47 years old, and 6′ foot 3′; intelligent as a whip, and delicious as apple pie, he had seized the moment, owned the day (year, century?) – not because he is so freaking awesome ~ stunning ~ magnificent ~ brilliant; not even because 44% of white Americans are just as ready as I am for mass awakening, the age of enlightenment; not even because I had voted for the first time in my entire life. Spectacular as these details are for me, and even after three days of tears of joy and freedom dancing I couldn’t write. I decorated my house with red white and blue balloons, one even said “God Bless America”; but I couldn’t write. I purchased blue Hanukkah lights to hang near my extraordinarily large circular Obama Zen poster flanking my front door, but I couldn’t write.
I was only just now jolted back into writing by an email I received today…It’s all about Black Power
