By: Dr. Santarvis Brown , 11th Episcopal District
My Dear Sisters,
What do I tell you, my sisters, When hope seems to slip like water through fingers, When the sun dips early, and shadows stretch long, When dreams seem pinned beneath the weight of history’s song? I tell you: We are shaped by mountains and fire, By rivers that carve their relentless paths, By mothers who told stories in the dark, By warriors who met dawn with braided strength and unyielding hearts.
When a name no longer echoes in the halls, When a voice we trusted falters and falls, We do not mourn as those without hope. We mourn, yes—but then we rise, Like morning light breaking through a winter’s storm, With hands linked tighter, resolve burning warmer. What do I tell you, my sisters? I tell you that loss is not the end but a seed, Planted deep in the soil of us, Waiting for the rain’s kindness, For the sun’s bold warmth, To open, to become something more.
Kamala’s legacy has not been vanquished; it is not erased. It resonates in your laughter, in the stride of your steps, In the questions you dare to pose, in the battles you choose to fight, In the spaces that some feel was never built for you. You carry the strength of those who came before, Women who braved tempests that clawed and raged, Who stitched hope from scraps, And sang freedom beneath an unyielding sky.
So, I tell you: Grieve if you must, but do not forget— You are women who do not end, Women who pass the torch, Each flame brighter, each flame stronger, Until we light the sky entire. You are the whispers in the rooms they’d close, The song in the wind, fierce and gentle. You are the past, the present, and all that is to come. What do I tell you, who are My Sisters? I tell you: you are the hope, you are the fight, And you are not done.
Stand tall, my sisters, for the world is watching, And your story is still unfolding, With every step that defies the dark, With every voice that echoes long after the silence.
You are the legacy, the root, and the bloom, A testament to resilience, courage, and power. And as long as you stand, unbowed and true, There is no boundary to what you, my sisters, can do.
With unwavering respect and love,
From A Brother
Thank you!!
Thank you my brother for your beautiful “proem”. I needed the prayer in your poem. Thank you for trying to understand and trying to feel my pain and to keep me on my feet. I only stumbled but God being my Helper I will keep pressing. Thank you my brother.