Your hair won’t flow freely, cascade down your back.
It will not run endless like road or train track.
It isn’t not bothered by hail or by rain,
It stands tall in the sunshine, shrinks low in the pain.
Bold as bristles, so rough.
Thick as thistles, and tough.
Your crying won’t ring like a lover’s lost dream,
Or moonlight’s kiss gently upon winding stream.
It won’t cause sweet ripples on blue waters deep,
Or lull your emotions and sing you to sleep.
It will rock you and shake you, upon distant mountains
It will well up inside you, your soul to weep fountains.
Hearty, strong and sound.
Meaning… full, profound.
Your frame wasn’t built to sway in the wind,
To waltz daintily ‘cross meadows and fields.
Your world is uneven so stomp feet you must,
Crush boulders beneath you and raise clouds of dust.
Dance to warrior’s beat.
Conquer all hurt, defeat.
In hair that stands tall, defiant and proud.
In tears that are heard for miles all around.
In a skin drenched in goodness; glowing and dark.
So loved by the sun, it left permanent mark.
In a body that bends but never should break,
There is something beautiful in you, child, awake!