Woman, lift up yah head,
fo de alchemist he comin.
Collect yah tears, e’ry last one,
fo he turn dem to strands a pearls
round yah queenly neck.
Take up yah burdens in yah weathered hands,
fo he turn dem leaden weights to gold,
gold fo yah wrist and yah ankles.
Sit up straight in de stiff straw of yah humiliation,
for he spin dat straw to silk
fo yah royal robes.
If ye bear yah head and tear yah hair
in grief and guilt and shame–oh!
He crown yah wid his love.
So lift up yah head, woman,
for de alchemist, he be comin.
(October 18, 2012)