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Amaya Banks
She is beautiful
She wears bright colors with matching hats
Commanding attention in the room
She raises her voice to summon God and His angels Opens
the blinds, sits up straight in the pews
Brown wrinkly skin
Soft warm eyes
A body here to spoil the small children
And to show their parents that only the weak refuse to cry, And
only the wicked are afraid to die
She stands strong and raises her hands through the old roof
Agonizing the clouds
And continues to clap in the skies
Pure grey, curly hair
She’s been around over ninety years
Outlived family, fears, and friends
She’ll be gone soon and doesn’t worry when
Taking notes in church, she cries out again and again My God! My
God! Blessed be His name!
She shows her strength through the tambourine Leading
each song and daring the drummer
To stray from her beat
She teaches and loves
She doesn’t even hear her own complaints
Day after day
She travels between the church and family’s homes,
spreading peace
Finally free of worldly restraints
Though she was sick
She refused to let the doctors attempt to manipulate His plan She
only depended on Him
Because He made her beautiful
She is beautiful
Shining and cleansing the air with her warmth
Hugging everyone who came to mourn
Whispering with the wind
When praises go up, blessings come down
How can you miss me when God said I can stay around?
She admires the flowers before lying to rest And in
the ground, we see
“Be beautiful”