For the last ten years, possibly, I've felt I should devote more time to prayer, and as a poet I've frequently felt too much time is spent on romantic love or lust. When do we arrive at a place of offering our words for something bigger than us?
I know it sounds hokey, to some it even sounds mad, but at my age it's time to do what I feel led to do not what others expect me to do. And so, here I am out on a limb, writing a blog about the struggles urban mothers face, struggles that are not always the same as mine, while offering a prayer, poem, song or psalm, for healing or justice.
I am in the right city for this task, New Orleans, La., whatever problem you name that threatens cities and leaves young mothers to tremble at night in their beds, New Orleans's got it.
Support me please.
I've visited the city each of the past 2 years for a conference. I loved the French Quarter and especially the food, but there is a sadness and an emptiness that you can feel as soon as you get off the plane. I will never forget my time there and am praying for the people there.
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