I was born a beautiful child so my
Mama told me with jet black curly hair
And she use to twist and curl my
Hair with her fingers until it fell
Nicely upon my head
These are the story I was told as
I grew, only thing I have no
Pictures, memories to see
And I wish to cry as she smile
Tells me of my infancy—my youth
That I was God’s beautiful curly
Lock child and I wish that my memory
Would take me to that time of
Innocence of joy & happiness
As she share that I was born God’s
Beautiful child as tears form in my eyes
As I watch her smile, she spoke
Of the beauty she sees in me
That is hidden deep inside.

Empress M. Spirit