Reflections on Sunday

sounds that come from the soul are always the same

free

open sounds

giving

the kind that reach out

and touch—

that’s what our sisters did/minimum

touching maximum/sharing oppression

and the wish for its

removal...

feeling those sounds

seeing them felt on others

watching faces smile for the first time in months—

getting high—on the natural power of the

people to resist/to smile/to laugh/to sing

shout/love/give

even here...

wild hair, funky guitar

long hair funky voice (someone said bessie smith

came to mind)

hair—all lengths, legs, arms, smiles, music—SISTERS—and us...

raggedy peacoats, cotton dresses, rocking,

swaying

enjoying it

screaming

crying too—even if not too many

let the tears fall free

us—black/brown/white/poor—SISTERS

and it was all a total exchange

of energy

communication

even if we did not share words

we all knew their soul—songs were

saying

we understand

we know

we can see what amerika is doing

to you—mother/daughter/child/woman

of oppression—

we can see, they sung —

and our voices answered their guitar

horns flute—voice—cowbell—tambourine demand for freedom with an unspoken’ right on

...a feeling there that one day—soon—

all people will be free...and

we left

stronger

able to smile (for a moment)

till we returned to

rules that degrade

schedules that destroy sanity

racism that they cannot

sexism that rapes us of our womanhood...

and the locks, keys, windows, walls, doors,

threats

warnings

bribes that harden our hearts and

chain our souls....

the time

must be

seized

venceremos!