The Image of Soul

The image of soul
Is sista gurl walkin’ down
Ghetto streets
With a big ol’ afro
An’ pearls gracin’ a long neck
That inspires poetry
Not spoken since
A cat named Solomon
Threw down reflections
Of one whose spell
He was under.
Wonder…
Where she go
When she walkin’ slow
Like a gentle breeze?
Beauty that is glorified
By the sun
As reflections
Bounce off mirrors and windows
And her silhouette shadow
Stretches in my Direction.
One thinks “Heaven”
One says “lust”
I break from the crowd in disgust
Unable to tag thoughts
On a woman
Whose hand…in my dreams
Is paralyzin’ with every touch
To my skin.Dark beauty
The image of soul
Makes me long for my
Ancestral home.
When woman was woman
Created as compliment
To her warrior man.
She dances in the moonlight
Surrounded by fire
Spurring on desire
With her rhythm.
‘Fraid of nothin’
Strong in body and spirit.
Will not fall for anything
Will not attach to just anyone.
Yes…I find that I must
Take on a Lion
And climb a mountain
Just so that my credentials
Are a non-issue.
The image of soul
The more I see her the
More it becomes known
Of my desire to
Make her my own.
One thinks “Heaven”
One says “lust”
I break from the crowd in disgust
Thinkin’ this woman was
Not created for the single benefit of us.
Solomon I understand…
How God’s soft creature
Can grip the thoughts Of man.
These streets
Are Paradise Eden
When she walks through
Them.
But an apple not picked quite so easily.
She is the image of soul.