(From
the beginning of human consciousness, women and men
have known the Mother of the Universe by many names:
Isis, Kali, Lilith, Demeter, Cybele, Artemis, the Black
Madonna. An image of the Sacred Feminine, she comes
to me as
)
| |
The
Big Black Woman The Big Black Woman
is a kick-ass kind of woman. So sumptuous is she,
so voluptuous, so deep-throated her big-bellied laughter.
She chortles as you cower, she picks you up and throws
you back to Africa, to that deep, that dark, that
tangled jungle of your instinct and your passion.
She enfolds you in her large round arms, she
picks you up and throws you back to Africa. She
rolls you in her musky, musical fragrance, the scent
of she picks you up and throws you back to
Africa. She holds you in her arms as she struts
and swaggers down the delta. She holds you and you
slide with her, down the delta back to Africa beneath
the fertile crescent of her belly to the warm, wet,
moist mystery of this midnight cavern, this mighty
cave rampant with the heat that sends you back to
Africa, to the lust that still is pouring through
creation like the rivers roiling down the delta.
She picks you up and throws you back to Africa,
the Big Black Woman takes you deep and takes you
down, takes you dark, exactly where you dread and
most desire to go in your deepest, wildest, darkest
thirsty dreams to drink, she takes you back to Africa,
to beginnings, to the power.
And
tonight she looks around, she sees her dark-skinned
daughter slumping shoeless on a hard stone stoop,
one baby at her breast, the next in her belly,
blamed for the man-made inevitability of being banished
into a basement, while white men and their well-heeled
women applaud welfare reform over five-course
dinners under chandeliers of gilt and plan to spend
the taxes theyll save on softer mattresses
for gold-toned guest rooms in second homes by the
sea. And
tonight she looks around,
she
sees black she
sees woman denigrated,
de-nig-rated: as if down and dark are necessarily
evil.
And
what she says is: Ha. Earthquakes are coming. Volcanoes
erupting. Tidal waves crashing. Thunder winds storming.
Ha, she says. Your house is crumbling. I will pick
you up and I will throw you back to Africa, into
the oceans, into the deep and dark and down. You
can swim in me, you can swim with me, you can strut
and swagger with me. Or you can drown. |