Mable Rather

Mabel Rather came to my house today, leaving a book of poems she wrote for her family and her heart. Called The Writings of Eyaa, her words came up from her soul through the filter of time and clogs of pain and just blew themselves into words which made you smile and shout. Here was a woman whose memories of a previous time growing up in the farm land near Burkes Tavern in Nottoway County are still fresh and needing a planting. Here was a way of life when the earth was her friend and social labels had no skin on which to stick.

We talked about how much is being lost as our connections to the earth loosen and our soul’s threads hang like the strings of birthday balloons when nobody showed up for the party. As I read some of her poems before writing this, I could feel those balloon strings find their former knots and the deep, deep breath of life lift their sagging heads up so they could once more dance above the cake and the light. Here’s a poem that got my attention:

DANCE
Dance, girl you don’t know what’s ahead.
If you dance, maybe you won’t get cold when the wind blow.
You won’t choke up from the excitement of puppy love.
Dance girl, and it won’t matter if he likes another girl.
Dance girl, and you won’t be too confused as you change
From a child into a teen.
Dance girl, and you won’t notice when you become a woman.
It won’t matter if he doesn’t love you back.
Dance girl, whirl and twirl
Through heartaches, being broke,
Putting a loved one on a bus or into a grave
While burning bridges or watching as tornadoes destroy
what you have built.
Dance girl, let your braids fly
Humming as you dance.
Point your toes and then
Spring into the air, spinning letting your braids fly
Celebrate your strength and the will to keep on trying
Believing and trusting in God, loving, caring, hoping
Dance girl, and you may not feel
The pain of disappointments.
Spin faster and faster
The wind whistling in your ears as you leap
Spreading your arms imagining you are above
The trees that you can touch the sky.
Dance girl, whirl girl, and it won’t matter
Too much in the end.