Poem:

Black Turtle Lady

Because I like black turtles, I am the black turtle lady
They are slow like me, traveling in the slowest lane
Given burdens heavier than most, we remain steady
The turtle carries its home and I walk with my cane.

Like the tortoise who slips inside his shell for safety
I retreat into my own comfort zone where it is safe
With hearing and vision loss, it is hard to travel safely
When exposed to danger, the turtle and I feel chafed.

There was a time when I could see and hear more clearly
A close friend taught me how to bead a pendant and a belt
I chose to make a black turtle on white which I love dearly
The hours spent sewing each bead sunwise were heartfelt.

In Tucson, I attended a mineral-gem show most fertile
Many were the radiant blossoms of crystals and gems
But when I laid my eyes on a shiny black obsidian turtle
That was more precious to me than any jeweled diadem.

I reached out for the turtle and held it up to the light
Its iridescent colors and satiny sheen melted my heart
My fingers ran over its smooth edges in total delight
Whoever had taken pains to craft this knew his art.

I lovingly cradled the tortoise’s proud head and sturdy feet
The black turtle and I, how well we understood each other
Our hearing is not as sharp, our sense of smell is bittersweet
We feel earth's vibrations and call out to our big brother.

I gave all I had and borrowed the rest but it was not enough
The dealer shook his head for the sale was not up for barter
Like the stubborn tortoise, I waited patiently to call his bluff
As night fell, the dealer capitulated making our sale smarter.

The black obsidian turtle became my special icon and treasure
We were meant for each other, not to compete but to uplift
The turtles came long ago to teach us to endure, to measure
We are slow and steady, for our race is not to be swift.

Written by Ipo
Rev. 3-23-08