Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

In moments of stress, or moments of strife, through periods of chaos, or periods of change, when life becomes unpredictable, days and nights too, unpredictable, when the voices and the places that once nurtured you, turn on you, whether storms erupt or your strong purpose erodes, no matter whether your candle burns it self out or your grief bites you inside out, even as you try to make sense of what remains, what inspires you or what frustrates you, I pray that poetry and all the ways it liberates, finds you, remembers you, holds you, strengthens you, uplifts you, speaks to you, and offers you hope that communicates to your soul directly beyond anything that tried but fail to stop you rise. Still like the woman you are, as dark and consistent like the night air, rise, rise, rise.