My sister and I have been talking of ~ living poetry.

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Word lines exchanged ~ femininity ~ gender gifts of heaven

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A sister’s revelation had me wondering truth ~ I read a Kings Psalms ~ prayer poetry for his daughters ~

Make our Daughters as shapely and bright as fields of wild flowers ~ Psalms 144

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Shapely ~ Bright ~ Wild Flower

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I think I could live ~ beauty ~ the fragrant dancing poetry, natures reflection of heavens purity.

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We know, Me under the humid African heat, sweat beads and damp hair, her with curly red and four men in the making and the ponytails and t-shirts ~ garments of survival.

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We echo each others thoughts of honouring heaven, our husband, children, a world of strangers ~ with the weaving treasure of feminine art ~

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We traced each others challenge and have dug through the mass production of false stagnant beauty, her with flowing lovely among her broad of denim manly, me with light strokes and delicate details.

Contented to reflect the uniqueness of our souls. Swirling sweet, captivated by this wonder of women ~ bearers of beauty.