by Poet t.l. sanders
Note: I have added links so to deepen your experience.
aRose a whisper into the window
awakens to chasten the query while chasing the quarry
the distance traveled not by miles but in minutes
this momentum lessens the limits
for siblings living in infinite centuries
July the sixteenth
organist, teacher, worship leader
is one score and four years running on
her way to Sunday service for God’s sake
in this minute—Ms. Jennings—by faith
breaks the color barrier
she Rosa Parks herself on the streetcar next
to nascent words whispered
into the window
on the metro, Montgomery
Will
you ride with me
this quote grows hope evergreen and
persistence climbs high like Ivy’s
flowers tower ivory towers with one goal: courage
to drive initiative
she is Time
her arrival is destined to revive this whisper
‘cause Time rights wrongs
with an editing pencil;
thus, Time writes songs and poems and
performs symphonic similes similar
to tunes of jazz and two-toned blues and sentimental
colorful, classical, autobiographical synchronous
words whisper into the window
this Time is 16-year-old
a conductor
for the On The Ground Railroad.
San Francisco Streetcar
yes, Dr. Angelou said it best “... still, like dust,
before 400 hundred years ago
much more than a slave. We are
before the ocean
brought boats to the coast
before the land bought
the folks stole. We are
before windows
before whispers
before words
before gibberish
Quit limiting Black History to four centuries.
Start whispering into the window
“Ignorance is temporal
Wisdom is infinity
Infinity is invisible
Will
you ride with me!”
never a question. It is
essence
introspection
expecting
the Will to ride alongside
Mrs. Parks was correct
when she sat in that moment
was the exact spot
she was supposed to be sitting
at-
Will,
you ride with me
Ms. Jennings winning from
the beginning stood tall
on the backs of ancestral siblings
who came before her
now it is Lizzie who understands tall
for she is our Earth on whom
we stand tall
Will,
you ride with me
Maya believed as she shined
light on those night roads in spite of
black codes coached by Jim Crow
when folks’ goal was to hurt her
an absurdity. We are observing
phenomenal women who
“... walk into a room
just as cool as you please,
on their command
the fellows stand or
fall down on their knees”
because the Will of these queens is
“a hive of honey bees.” It is written
in a poem called “Phenomenal Woman”
literally a literary
Will,
you ride with me
was never a question
for Harriet Tubman when it came
to saving slaves’ lives, her train rides
rode focused and free from within like these
KC Streetcars have a transit app
Mama Moses—the Map
would unload boats of cargo
to go right back through
the Alleghenies of Pennsylvania
less for the amusement and
more for the movement
that led to liberty or death
let’s expect
strong Will
to ride
even when the freight fretted the road ahead
en route to the depot, General Tubman would open
her soul to show the words whispered into the window
then she would whisper into their ears
the Will is the constant
wasn’t wasn’t an option
wasn’t isn’t an option
wasn’t won’t be an option
whispered into the window
is
Will,
you ride with me
Wanna see "This" said? Well, here ya go.