poet.singer.theologian
New Birth I lost more of my mind than I did my hair when you first came out, water-logged and anxious, a bit like your mother. I cared little for social graces and faces appearing to peck at the chores and leave leftovers at my door. I needed sleep like a memory foam bra lifting…
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I see mothers of the ages, of all cultures, of all times, carrying torches, lighting the darkness, soothing the future with hummed lullabies. They carve their way in beautiful strength with faith and song, waiting….watching….warding…waiting… staying the course with never-ending grace. Stalwarts of elegance, extend your hands, don your mantles and dance. Oh how God’s heart…
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Kelsi Folsom 