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Transcend All Limits

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Transcend All Limits  Listen to show The trap was set, the jaws had snapped shut, and the predator was already licking his teeth. By every conventional law of nature, the smaller creature should have surrendered to terror. The options on the table were horrific: roasted over a pine-top bonfire, hanged by the hind legs from a willow branch, or drowned in muddy plantation water. Any one of us facing systemic traps or sudden life crises would immediately cycle through raw panic: the blind rage of becoming Mad, the grief of becoming Sad, or the paralysis of being Scared. Yet, the rabbit pleaded on his knees for every possible death—begging for mercy from only one thing: the thorny, razor-sharp thicket across the ditch. Why would a captive beg his captor to avoid the very torture chamber waiting right in front of him? And more importantly: why do modern, educated Black folks keep screaming in horror at the very environments, histories, and challenges that our ancestors used to master th...
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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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