I haven’t written anything for this website in a little while, but I have been writing a lot more on my Substack Newsletter — Joyfully Liberated. You can join it for free or for a paid subscription. I want my writing to be as accessible as possible, so most of the content is free.

This poem was originally posted on my newsletter, but I want to share it here as well.

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A Place of Springs

On the nights when the party is over
And the tears haven’t come yet
I sit at the altar of gratitude

So minuscule to the world
So grandiose is to me the hug from my sisters

How could I not sit at the altar of gratitude?
When loneliness was once my story
When being loved by Black women was only in my dreams
When my body once believed it would never be safe again

Do you know what it means to bask in the goodness of God?
It is to be loved.
Not in a future version
But in this moment

Soft days
They’re hard to come by these days
Soft days are held in my hands

And I will remember
For today I have seen the goodness of She who is Mighty.
Here! In the land of the living!

For even as I go through the valley of tears
I have made it a place of springs.

Selah