21 April 2010


My mother was made queen as I stood at the foot of the Sahel
and watched her illuminate stars from the center of the earth.
She whispers to the wind that I am worthy...
fashioning my namesake with cello beats and silken arcs of obsidian.
My spirit conforms itself to look upon that which I have been given
and I am remembered to a symphony of silence...kissed blue and then green...
birthed in the embrace of afternoon
and sketched in Tamachek across earth moments and desert sky

-Ryan Forbes Morris

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