Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

I have been reading dreams of a common language by Adrienne Rich and these words, below reflected my way with a dash of Toni Morrison, are what I will keep as i close a chapter of my life, one where I finally learned to fly, though as a new chapter begins…

She was not a performer competing against any speed or brilliance. She was brilliant, with an unusual vividness, clarity, order, and significance of her calling. She was a dream.

The longer she stayed, the more she mistrusted empty words, lip service, false reality cast by the performance of a life that truly wasn’t reflective of what the world truly is. The truths they deny, reality too, respectfully, there is fire on the mountain and no water will quench what everyone sees, is falling apart. Only thing left to do is run, run, run. She did.

This woman who now sits watching, listening, eyes moving in light…is a dream. She is taking herself more seriously, pulling back from rhythms, laments, static reality that once tried to stifle her.

She is cutting wires that almost choked her breeze. She found herself in a free-fall once, noting that no one who survives to speak, has avoided this phase.

The cutting away of the things she once hoped on. The letting go of a false livelihood rooted in denial of a stark reality, the pitch of utter incompetence, all the times she found herself weightless, her being a cry, to which no echo comes, is the point of this pivot.

She pivots now, knowing herself better. She was in preparation for this moment. She keeps perspective. She knows this is prophetic. She sees the provisions. She knows the point of this pivot. She is at peace. She is a dream, a woman fully birthed with an unsual clarity, order, significance of her vivid reality. She is prepared to undertake the kind of dreaming many avoid, soiling instead of solving, ruining what should be revered. Higher glory was never lip service to her. She will do all she can to keep working for it still. Dream the world as it ought to be, with no shame. Where they tried to kill her spirits, she birthed a dream. She is a dream.

She who is not rootless, she who only strives for greatness, brilliance, with minds that push for this. Paths will cross. She is near. The memories from last week will linger and time will pull the tenets of a lifetime together. She won’t forget. She is light. The moon belongs to her. She lives on knowing only dreams will save us. Dreams saved her. She is entering a position that matters, entering now a space that will allow her to soar beyond your wildest imaginations of her. If you thought you knew her, wait till you see her. She knows seeing is believing. So wait. She enters this space, still dreaming, so her thoughts, her solutions, her directions, are sterling. Welcome to her Dreams.