Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

It’s another day, and we are among those lucky people who get to see this day and it’s rain and the birds that lurk around grasses, on their feet, like the a red cardinal bird that hurries from one grass to another, from one branch to another, such is the life of a mother, this day we begin gathering all our hopes and dreams, meanwhile, there is a little boy, somewhere, somehow, learning what it means to be little, and boy and black. The world will hurry along past him. The world would make up things about him, with quick fire in their throat. He would look on, hoping those that love him, love on, so his ambitions and goals, keep stirring up deeply within his big brown eyes and even if he stands, even if he gets through this moment, at least he knows love wins, no matter how they make up things about him, love in the end, like red cardinal birds in search of food, always win.