Let the pen flow out of you with words that cannot take up space in your mind because love is the only word that your heart knows right now. Impenetrable, indescribable, affectionate, deeply rooted in the underground of ancestors who could not tell their truth for fear of being cut, strung up from tree branches like Christmas ornaments of time that creeps into my soul because I cannot forget where I've been to know where I'm going, and still I surmise that the eternal hope of living is interwoven between past and presents, but the future is where I lay, and so I write in better days because my life is a mosaic of thoughts trapped in cobwebs of my brain, and all I can do is think and read and write and think some more until I feel I am worthy to share my most deepest fantasies, nightmares, dreams.
At present, our country needs women's idealism and determination, perhaps more in politics than anywhere else. -Shirley Chisholm
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