market_awakeningDressed in shades of salmon head to toe. Traveling to and fro. He visits the market stands, searching. Searching for that one item he desperately needs. Is he killing time? Does his stomach long to be full? With the trained eyes of a life long people watcher she follows the varying shades of salmon flitting about. She silently wonders who this man is.

A gravel voice echoes throughout the vast open space. Carrying with it the soulful sound of the blues. She listens intently as her heart beats in time. Transported to another time and place. Mind, body, and soul travel to the deep south. Trees sway in the breeze. Leaves gently beckoning. Air heavy with moisture. A stickiness like no other. Clothes clinging to her body. Accentuating all the right places.

Opening the door to shimmering lights as bodies engulf her view, a sea of rhythm and blues rocks gently. Closing her eyes. Inhaling a deep full breath. The kind of breath that fills your lungs and makes your chest heavy. Breath rising until it feels as if you’ll burst. Slowly the breath falls, capturing with it the moment. The moment when her soul feels alive. Alive with the power of the gospel. The gravel voice that transported her to another time and place rings out…”That’s the power of the gospel.”


Awakened. Glowing with the power that is hers and hers alone. Heads begin to turn as if they can feel the power resonating from her, pulsing with the music. Like a moth to a flame, eyes meet hers, recognizing the power within. She carries the power deep within. Afraid to let it out. Knowing that if she does it will forever change her. Transforming her into the incredible force she has always been.

She keeps the power close as if it were a dark secret she is afraid to share. Afraid of the punishment that has followed her. Be someone, anyone, other than who you are. A constant theme throughout her existence. Growing weary of the fight, allowing doubt to creep in, she conceded long ago, and bent to the iron will of conformity. Choosing to sacrifice her natural self for the acceptance of others, burying the power deep within. Years pass with an emptiness she does not understand. Lost in that darkness, unrecognizable, until her soul is touched by a force even she cannot fight, a sea of rhythm and blues.

Body and soul struggle to take control. To answer the call that beckons. Fighting with the mind, urging it to quiet, to give way waves_awakeningto the power within. Will she? Can she? Body and soul seize the moment. Becoming one force they subdue the mind. Rising and falling like a wave crashing against a cliff, exerting its strength slowly over time, shaping the rock into its true self, body and soul make way for the kind of unique beauty sculpted only by time. The power within gains momentum. Beginning to flicker ever so slightly.

Begging to escape and breathe, the power within grows brighter. Exploding into a roaring fire. A fire burning so bright it cleanses the weeds of doubt and fear that entangled her for too long. Burning a bright path to the future where darkness is defeated by light.

The gravel voice rings out…”That’s the power of the gospel.”

Remember that list of 100 dreams? Dream #17 participate in writing marathons. I have now participated in not one, but two writing marathons. This week is the New Orleans Writing Marathon. My health keeps me from going to things right now. Lucky for me they have a virtual writing marathon!  It is only fitting that I finish a piece tonight that began at the Everybody Writes Writing Marathon this June. GAME ON!


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