The pressure to write words that preferably I would rather just speak, haunt my soul.

The ever- pressing need to release some level of truth becomes the cathartic peace for the moment.

What I know is that life has places that instruct but it also has places that reshape love –a love that calls for resembling default of authenticity.

Where do I find peace?

I find it: trapped in the brown and black skin of my people.

I find it: laced in the syllables of the words of the elders.

I find it: in the genius of the welcoming known as a pound.

I find it: in the soft kiss of my dark queen.

I find it: through the love of a young daughter’s call of Daddy

I find it: seeking wisdom from brothers who have walked the path of manhood

I find it: in the beat of the drum- Dilla, Premiere, and Coltrane

Where do I find peace?

Honestly, most of the time, peace finds me…God.