Prayer of Gratitude

As this morning dawns,

May the world show up with brilliance and glory.

May the sun shine down upon all of us and fill us with joy.

May we wake up with a feeling of excitement to face the day.

May our steps be brisk and sure.

May the paths we walk on be straight and smooth.

The day lies before us to fill us with new ideas.

It unfolds with its serenity, and may we take it and care about it.               

There is so much to unfold before us, and we have an adventure to fulfill.

May we open it up like a page and delight in the phrases it reveals to us.

The mountains lay before us to open their arms and hold us.

A few birds soar quietly above us, and others sing a serenade.

May our soul be filled with peace and quiet.

May life continue to be generous with its love.

May we do this day justice and relish the wonders around us. May those we touch feel the comfort of our caring.

May our marks show up on this wondrous earth.

Stand ready to face the world.

Plant your feet solid, ready for this journey.

Divine Power, guide us and take our hands.

Help us to walk together in joy and tranquility,

peace and harmony.

And So It Is!

            © Hilda Ward, 2018

Sunrise, Mammoth Hot Springs
Photo by Neal Herbert, January 2016

From Whom Did I Spring?

Her mother was a slave, her father the master

She was beautiful and vain

She loved life and enjoyed it all

She lived till 100 years

She gave me time and love and stories

She told the time by the way the sun hit the window ledge

And she knew the Bible better than the theologians

How proud and beautiful was she

Her daughter was my grandmother

Who was my “mother” because Mom had to work

She fed us the special foods and ironed my starched dresses

She combed my hair and gave me extra nickels

She scolded me and helped us to grow

She raised siblings and children and grands and foster children

She helped me with my children

And she ironed with love and care

She was a quiet woman

Who gave love always

She lived to 89 and left quietly

How special and loved was she

Her daughter, my mother, had a rough life

She worked hard to provide a roof and food

She was a fighter, young and old,

And encouraged us to move forward

She gave us the time she could

And made us strong and able

She still is part of our lives

A great great grandmother but doesn’t look the part

She is called grandmommie and Gee Gee

She loves being with them, and playing too

How young and vivacious is she who is loved

The women in my family were and are strong

Working hard and raising families

They have left imprints on all of us, young and old

They are queens because their ancestry said it was so

I can be proud of my heritage

Because they were and are Black Beauties

Thank you Lucinda, Nana, and Cinda for the strength and beauty

You are queens, one and all!

          © Hilda Ward, 2017

Nzinga Mbandi, Queen of Ndongo and Matamba
Taken from Nzinga Mbandi: Queen of Ndongo and Matamba from the UNESCO series
on women in African history. Illustrations by Pat Mason
from Wikimedia Commons

Who Is This Woman?

I am from Cinda and Fred who created the union

I am from my ancestors who brought me forth to enter the world of many dreams

I am from the joy of laughing clouds of energy that flow into the river of loving

I am from the world of loneliness as I seek to touch all that surrounds me

I am from women who had to bear burdens and children and those not meant to be

I am from another world that gave me life and many centuries of queens and kings

I am from nurturers of the world who seek the laughter of passionate tears

I am from souls who wander in the world to seek a place that feels like home

I am from the freeing spirit that must fly to seek the free flying winds

I am from words that must pour out and yet hands that prevent them from coming

I am from phrases thought but not placed on paper because the mind says not now

I am from you and me and us and we and all that is and will be

I am from the earth and the sky and wings of birds

I am from all that is and wants to be

I am from a place I called home and I will call home and a place I now call home

I am from the sunrise and the sunset and all that is in between

And only a moment in which I am from all that is and yet to be

And so it is that I am the woman who loves to be hugged and cared about

Who feels alone often and yet can walk among you

I am the woman who aches to be cared about but can’t ask

Who wants to reach out to the world but can’t take the step

I am the woman who wants to be there but not quite sure where

Who walks among you but doesn’t always feel there

I am the woman who feels gratitude for being and surviving

Who dances through life and yet needs to be rocked

I am the woman who wants to cry out loud but no tears will come

Who asks, “Who am I?”

I am the woman who walks with purpose but wants no goals

Who comforts but wants holding

I am the woman who knows how to give but can’t quite take

And so I am the woman that many know but don’t know who I am

I stand before you reaching out on paper

Because I am the Black woman who must hold up her world

But know that I am the woman whose strength covers her deepest pain

And so send me sprinkles of joy and laughter I can grasp

Each time I need my heart to sing

“It is well.  It is well with my soul!”

        © Hilda Ward, 2017

Birds on the wing
from Pixabay via Wikimedia Commons

Giving/Receiving

Oh, the lessons we must learn

Because we have to grow.

Oh, the message given when young

That you know must be changed.

“You are to give of yourself,

So reach out and help those less fortunate.”

“Be benevolent and give a helping hand.”

“Be strong and reach down to lift others up.”

“Don’t let others see you cry

Because that means you’re weak.”

And so your life follows those paths,

Until one day a cardboard box stands in your way,

And you fall into awareness.

The depths of the hole

Feel like an upside-down world.

You must reach out and ask for help.

You must allow others to help you.

Simple chores are too much for you,

And you must sit and watch while others work for you.

You cry because you feel so vulnerable,

And you don’t know how to accept.

But you learn the lessons

Of allowing others the giving gift,

And you sit and see the rainbows

That were always there to see.

So you now can give the gift of giving

To others as you sit quietly to receive.

What a gift!

        © Hilda Ward, 2017

Nurse tending patient in Kettering hypertherm cabinet
WPA photo taken in New Orleans, U.S. Marine Hospital
from Wikimedia Commons 

My Ancestors Call Me

My ancestors call me to come to the Motherland

And I feel as if I’m drifting on a raft of disappointment

Loaded down with hopes and dreams and expectations

As if I should know the passage to travel

My ancestors call me and I ache to answer the call

Because I feel as if my heart lies on those shores

And I beg to walk as a native of that earth

As if I know every corner of that land

My ancestors call me and I want to bow down and touch that soil

Because I know I belong there as an elder

And my heart cries out like a lonely bird for its mother

Knowing I need my Motherland to console me as I grow

My ancestors call me many times and I want to respond

Because their calls are like a welcome to those who walk the uneven ground

And so I continue to work as if my ride will come tomorrow

So I can be carried across the water like a ship that knows its course

My ancestors call me over and over again

As if they are preparing me for my mission of life

And so I continue to hear the sounds of joy like a sax that draws you close with each note

Because I know those notes are like a signal to come and rest

like a baby needing a lullaby

My ancestors are calling and I hear you!

And I stand up like a young soldier responding to the bugle call

Because I know it is as important as life itself

And so I continue to hear the voices

I hear you Lucinda, Nana, Ida, Uncle Jimmy, Faust:

My ancestors who call me as if you are the bringers of those who came before

And so I will continue to hear you like a serenade humming

in my heart each day

Because I know you want me to come as the carrier of life and love like a servant of all humankind

My ancestors call me and I know you won’t stop

Because the call is like a bow strumming on my heart strings

And I will respond whenever the time is right with my soul

Your call pulls me and propels me and lifts me

My Ancestors, keep calling!

Your call carries me upward like a flight of eagles soaring

To help me to reach the highest heights

I will answer Your call when it is time!

And so it is!

        © Hilda Ward, 2016

A pendant portraying a revered ancestor
from the Democratic Republic of the Congo
Photo:Brooklyn Museum
from Wikimedia Commons

Sit Quietly and Take It In

When you sit quietly and allow yourself to hear your heart

Then your soul can come forth to comfort you.

When you sit quietly and listen to the wind and feel the flowers

Then your soul takes on the contentment it begs for.

When you sit quietly and view the vastness of the mountains

Then your soul can feel the presence of the Divine Creator

When you sit quietly and view the tiny creatures of the earth

Then your soul can feel deep into the soil of life

When you sit quietly and feel the flow of the wings above

Then your soul can step out and fly with a joy

When you sit quietly and feel the mist of the waves

Then your soul can be washed clean with a pureness

When you sit quietly and watch a deer slide gracefully in your path

Then your soul can feel the gentle love of your Higher Power

When you sit quietly and feel the earth under your feet

Then your soul can plant itself solid in your temple

And you can write and write and write

To seek the contentment of your soul

And you can write and write and write

To find the answers that rumble inside to come out

And you can write and write and write

To know the joy of exploring what surrounds you

And you can write and write and write

To feel yourself on a healing path

That brings you to write and write and write

To know you are right with the world

And So It Is!

             © Hilda Ward, 2016

Deer
Photo by Tony Russell

I Will Get There

No one will stop my growth.

No one will hold me down.

Nothing will prevent my going on.

I will walk onward with head high.

I may turn in circles for a while

because there seem to be walls,

but I will find an opening.

I may seem to be going back

because a force is pulling me,

but I will stand still and wait,

to walk on alone and with pride.

No one and nothing will stop me.

So watch out for me,

I’m coming to full growth!

Put all the stumbling blocks 

you want to stop me.

I will look around and climb over,

with a few scratches on the journey,

but when I get there,

I will be glowing with completeness.

Nothing can stop me,

so get ready for me:

I will be there.

© Hilda Ward, 2015

Civil Rights march on Washington, D.C.; 1963
Photo by Warren K. Leffler
U.S. News &P World Report Photograph Collection
Library of Congress
from Wikimedia Commons

I’m Beginning to See and Feel

I’m beginning to see the light of the free flow of life, 

The light I must have in order to create the power.

I’m beginning to feel the power that flows through me,

The power that allows me to begin to blossom and burst forth.

I’m beginning to feel the light and energy of each day,

The day that brings free mornings and creating nights.

I’m beginning to turn the corner of new light of healing,

The light that warms me to walk with the power of healing.

My power comes from the light and my ancestors;

My ancestors lead me to the spirit.

The spirit enters me each day to feel the power of the ancestors;

My ancestors guide me to heal the earth and my inner soul.

The light surrounds me and envelopes my soul;

My soul becomes strengthened to reach out and touch.

My touch reaches from deep inside me and touches other souls; 

Those souls cover me with a warmth that satisfies my heart.

My heart sings with an exalted joy;

My joy touches all who enter my life.

My life fulfills the love of those who came before,

And so my ancestors fill me so I can fulfill my mission.

And so I can see the joy of life;

My life feels the warmth of contentment.

Contentment allows me to reach out to share my love;

My love allows the everlasting power of healing.

Healing brings me warmth;

Warmth covers me with satisfaction;

Satisfaction makes me know I am alive.

And so life goes on to heal,

And therefore it is!

© Hilda Ward, 2015

Orange Coneflower
photo by Tony Russell

Sit Quietly and Take It In

When you sit quietly and allow yourself to hear your heart

Then your soul can come forth to comfort you

When you sit quietly and listen to the wind and feel the flowers

Then your soul takes on the contentment it begs for

When you sit quietly and view the vastness of the mountains

Then your soul can feel the presence of the Divine Creator

When you sit quietly and view the tiny creatures of the earth

Then your soul can feel deep into the soil of life

When you sit quietly and feel the flow of the wings above

Then your soul can step out and fly with a joy

When you sit quietly and feel the mist of the waves

Then your soul can be washed clean with a pureness

When you sit quietly and watch a deer slide gracefully in your path

Then  your soul can feel the gentle love of your Higher Power

When you sit quietly and feel the earth under your feet

Then your soul can plant itself solid in your temple

And you can write and write and write

To seek the contentment of your soul

And you can write and write and write

To find the answers that rumble inside to come out

And you can write and write and write

To know the joy of exploring what surrounds you

And you can write and write and write

To feel yourself on a healing path

That brings you to write and write and write

To know you are right with the world

And So It Is

© Hilda Ward, 2015

Photo by Tony Russell

On My Way to My Muse

On my way to my Muse

I must clean off the kitchen table

And put the dishes in the dishwasher

And load clothes in the washing machine.

On my way to my Muse

I must get my favorite pen

And find a special journal

And finish writing out the bills

And pick up my messages

So I can have silence.

On my way to my Muse

I must get rid of all my doubts

And my share of not being good enough

And not being organized

And not being ready for success.

And so on my way to my Muse

I must call for a session to remove my doubts

And get a massage to relieve my tensions

So I know that I am the best I can be.

Then I reach out again to my Muse

And I find my hands aren’t quite clean enough

And my space isn’t clear

And I haven’t finished my chores,

And so I write her a letter

And ask her to forgive me

And to come again when I am ready.

© Hilda Ward, 2014

The Muse of Poetry by Konsantin Makovsky
from Wikimedia Commons

Dance! Dance! Dance!

I am dancing with a rhythm of love and laughter

I feel the drums deep inside of me,

Calling me home to the land my body yearns to find

Dance!  Dance!  Dance!

Twirl with the beat of life

Flow gently with the wind

With a strength that holds the power of your mission

Dance!  Dance!  Dance!

To the flow of life reaching deep down to find your soul

To find the core that leads you to the center of your love

And bring forth the ectasy of commitment

Dance!  Dance!  Dance!

Bring forth your ancestors

They live inside of you who are the drum of their mission

Beat out the rhythm of their song so the world may hear it

Dance!  Dance!  Dance!

For your ancestors and carry them to the end

This dance is a journey for them

Which will end when your journey is complete

So Dance!  Dance!  Dance!

© Hilda Ward, 2014

Ghanaian women dancing
Photo by USAID
from Wikimedia Commons

Katrina: Ancestral Call

Louis Armstrong, your trumpet must be blowing

For the anguish of your people.

Sarah Vaughn, please moan for those who can’t seem

To utter a sound.

Duke Ellington, let your hands run across the keys

To tinkle the sound of tears from those lost in starvation.

Lady Day, cry out in soft tones

As you did when you sang “Bitter Fruit.”

There was bitter fruit in New Orleans

As folks begged for food and hung in lines for hours.

Count Basie, play those chords and hum along,

To soothe the anguish of Motherless children.

Saints of New Orleans, march down those muddy streets,

Playing your instruments to cleanse the toxicity

Of racism and neglect.

Play hard and loud in your funeral march

To comfort those bodies who lay on the street for days.

All musicians who have gone from the French Quarter

To a better place beyond,

Spread a blanket of comfort for those who still remain,

Like Fats Domino, who had to be carried out to safety.

Martin and Malcolm, lead us out to find a better life,

And remind us when we become complacent.

Medgar Evers and Fannie Lee Hamer, give us the Word

To stand before the delegates and say, “We must be heard!”

W. E. B. Dubois and Frederick Douglas, remind us to stand up

And orate and record our history

So this will not be forgotten!

Sojourner and Phyllis Wheatley, lead us to freedom

And help us create the poem that says,

“We can’t be turned around!”

Help us to bring forth those who will stand tall.

We need warriors to come forth and say,

“We will not allow our bodies to be stacked up again

  as our ancestors were in ships.”

We need children and young people to walk forward and say,

“We want the best education and we need nurturing so

  we can grow to be strong adults to fight the system bravely.”

We need allies: Black and White, Native and Latina, Asian and East Indian, Gay and Straight, Rich and Poor, to stand together and say,

“We see the the Racism and we will not allow it to happen

          anymore!"

"We see it and our eyes can’t be closed any longer!”

“We see the poor and disenfranchised and we will not allow 

  that anymore!"

“We will pull together so that All people will be free!”

“All men and women will have quality of life and will not be  

   ignored and treated with disrespect!"          

We need to stand together and march forth

To show the strength of our convictions and shout,

No more!  No more!  You will do this to us no more!

This time it’s out there, and you can’t sweep it under the rug

Of power and greed.

It won’t stay under there anymore!

This must NEVER happen again!

No more!  No more!

© Hilda Ward, 2014

New Orleans residents beside the road, waiting to be rescued after Hurricane Katrina
Photo by Jocelyn Augustino/FEMA
from Wikimedia Commons

Music

Music is a melody of joy
That takes hold of me

And helps me to dance

The dance of wondrous song

Music is a comfort to me

When life seems overwhelming

And I can't seem to move on

But it gets me up and my feet move freely

Music is a stimulator for my soul

That pushes me to let it go

While I move my feet to go forth

To express my ancestors with pride

Music is a reminder of years gone by

When my feet could move all night

Without my breath seeming short

And my smile spreads all over me

Music consoles me when I feel down

And it comforts me to know I am cared about

While I may drop a few tears

But I know it will be fine

So, music always be there

As I walk this path

And push me to dance with ecstasy

And know I am blessed by You!

                             © Hilda Ward, 2013

Ashanti Akan Cultural Adowa Dance Group
Photo: Wikimedia Commons,  by Brendan