"Freedom is living" I have moved Southern mansions, but you have moved mountains. I have seen the heart of the great white hunter, from the inside out, again and again. While you pumped water in oceans. When I speak of poetry often, I am shallow and pine for authenticity. The kind of love only a black woman deserves. From under the breast From fecund preserves. Beah, you are the night Beah, you are the womb Beah, you were right To be always you. When I first read you I knew right then a rook from the queen the sword from a pen. Brave, broad, Broadway Slave, Home, Democracy Coal, pressed, diamond One Strong Woman. You were never an eight lined maid in my movie. You are the closest thing to a mother I will ever find, the purest colored voice I would dare rewind. Beah, you are the night Beah, you are the womb Beah, you are the fight For what we need to see through.