let’s take a long walk

I don’t take walks often because I never feel like I can get a chance to. It’s easy for me to stay in the basement of a room and stare at blank walls to create a blank mind. Playing outside in grass, trees, leaves, and rocks wasn’t a thing growing up in hood streets. But now that I’ve grown older, nature calls me to love it. I’m unsure what this call means. Is it a call to trust the perfection of the creation so far? I wonder if nature is God’s sister or the Gentlest Mother Where she stretcheth out her arms to embrace man. To embrace me. A young woman not yet impressed with what nature has to offer. Is nature a poet? Does she use language to convey the beauty of flowers that stand tall in windowsills? How fair Her Conversation. 

I take walks in what is now more the suburban parts of town where natures poetry and the rhythm of my walk meet creativity. What business have I in the woods? A black woman taking hikes doesn’t sound too appealing. A black woman enjoying nature doesn’t sound too common. Not like Dickinson or Emerson or Thoreau. Could it be that their love is laced in their genetic makeup?  Their study of science allowing them to be more artistic? I take my walk and enjoy the gardens that people have created. Gardens that they had the time to nurture and love. I hope to find time one day and reclaim my space in Her world.