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Quit Marching Down Dead Roads: The Trap of the Fruitless Tree

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Quit Marching Down Dead Roads: The Trap of the Fruitless Tree Look at your daily routine. Look at the calls you answer, the hours you surrender to a corporate logo, the conversations you indulge, and the checks you cash. You are sweating, grinding, and running yourself into an early grave. But when you look up at the branches at the end of your day, what are you actually harvesting? The Wolof elders from Senegal gave us an uncompromising law of nature: "No path leads to a fruitless tree." In the natural order, creation doesn't waste calories. A trail is beaten down into the dirt because generations found food, medicine, and clean water at the end of it. Nobody stomps a highway into the brush just to stare at dead wood. Yet millions of us wake up every single morning, lace up our shoes, and run full-speed down wide, paved boulevards that dead-end at a barren stump. We chase titles that feed our ego while starving our spirit. We maintain loyalty to toxic relationships and p...

Final GoodBye III- Writing for Healing

His Story is Mine

His story is mines,
Better yet my story is his,
For now I can no longer deal with what was,
Now I have to deal with what is.
A great tree has fallen in the forest of life,
A tree that provided shade for many and a shelter from strife.
But this is not the end of his tory for his story is mine,
And his story will live through his bloodline for all time.
His story is not over because his story is mine, and I need for his loved ones to read between the lines.
Although his body is gone his spirit is strong, that explains why through the pain and confusion he lived so long.
Fear not because his story is not over because his story is mine,
He has made it to peace and he rest with the divine
We are the seeds and saplings grafted from his tree and now he can rest in comfort for his story can be told by we.
His story is not over, because his story belongs to me
For I am a proud branch on his family tree, I will always remember those that came before, those that struggled like no people before.
Like Miles Brown and the lady known as Ms. Ann their stories will live because it was passed to my hands
Like Herman Brown and Rosa lee
Like Geneva and Herman brown the second, and Cleven Brown now can peacefully join their essence
Although his body has now been returned to the earth
His story and their story has been cemented  in  time by Cleven Miles Brown's birth.
His story his mine, his story is ours, his story is ours.
Now tell it.......

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