the revolution is a black woman- words by Muhammad Raheem

he was born from dust here
his arms are branches
his legs are roots and his head
is a bird nest
perfectly constructed with the courage
of a mother
there is fire dancing within him and her
there are words forming on her tongue
universes are born on his fingertips and
civilizations crumble under her toes
her eyelashes whisper wisdom of a grandmother
his fist hide the scars of a boxer
she is young she is full of love
you can see it kicking at her heels
like a grocery bag wandering in the wind
searching for that gallon of milk he was destined to hold
her heart is open like mouths of a wishing well
or a cookie jar in a daycare
just waiting for his hand to plunge in
and cradle it