won't you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up here on this bridge between starshine and clay, my one hand holding tight my other hand; come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.

What they call you is one thing. What you answer to is something else.

the lesson of the falling leaves the leaves believe such letting go is love such love is faith such faith is grace such grace is god i agree with the leaves

Things don't fall apart. Things hold. Lines connect in thin ways that last and last and lives become generations made out of pictures and words just kept.

may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back

Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.

Children when they ask you why your mama so funny say she is a poet she don't have no sense