bead drenched dreads
sweet locks, hair-strand threads
new roots for you nestle
unknown visitor
requests - foreign and seems forlorn
but through this...
all seems to become untorn...
roots
new growth nurtured lengths
taken in by deep breathes
and hopes in yes...
no more of this suppressed
locks ground and rubbed through and between palms and finger tips
sculptured new essence in being's presence
weave each sleeve and slip on in serenity the ultimate deity
blessings, wound dressings.... through The Believe - this is achieved...
This is good. Now every time I twist my locks I will think of it the way you have placed it. Much like life ne, everytime we there is a little growth, it needs to be gently embraced with the rest of the self that has grown already, although initially a foreigner, with time all weaved in together...:-)
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