If it was so honorable and glorious to be black, why was it the yellow-skinned people among us had so much prestige?

If it was so honorable and glorious to be black, why was it the yellow-skinned people among us had so much prestige?

Most things are born in the mothering darkness and most things die. Darkness is the womb of creation, my boy. But the sun with his seven horns of flame is the father of life.

She was stretched on her back beneath the pear tree soaking in the alto chant of the visiting bees, the gold of the sun and the panting breath of the breeze when the inaudible voice of it all came to her. She saw a dust-bearing bee sink into the sanctum of a bloom; the thousand sister-calyxes arch to meet the love embrace and the ecstatic shiver of the tree from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom and frothing with delight.

But any man who walks in the way of power and property is bound to meet hate.

Such as I am, I am a precious gift.

Mystery is the essence of divinity