She is the oak





By Kevin Donalson | Gonzaga



For my great-grandmother, Eloise King, and countless other unrecognized black women.



Uneducated

and poor

her husband

no more


Four children to look after

Does she whither

like an unquenched flower?

Or stand tall

Like the oak tree?


She is mother and father.

The order in the court.

She is discipline and love.

She holds generation after generation

on her shoulders.

But does she whither,

like the dying flower?

Or stand mighty

like the oak tree?


Rosa’s resilience,

Coretta’s love,

Mahalia’s praise,

dance through her blood.

Consistently unrecognized

yet,

she rises,

and stands forever strong,

like the undying oak tree..