I believe in my myself. The works of my hands, The strides of my feet, The sight of my eyes, The taste in my mouth and The feel of my skin.

I believe in this body. Shelter to my spirit, Keeper of my strength, Mirror of my existence, Symbol of my knowledge, Protester of my words and Endurer of my lack.

I believe in my journey. Past, shut as though a book. Present, sharp as a fish hook. Future, open like the morning skies. Tomorrow, guaranteed as a mighty oak tree.

And when wise men and young children whisper wisdom, I will not resist. A learner will I always be.

When the rain pours, I will not look at my wet cloths, but will shelter the naked under my skin. 

When the dagger pierces through the hearts of men, will I pull it out with my bloody hands and burning knee. 

Invincible to the pain and sorrow of the world, my name is written above. Kissed by the sun and shadowed by the moon.

I believe in my language. My language of yesterday is today. My language of tomorrow is today and your language of today is when?

Jecinta Powell. X pj