05/04/2026
As soon as I completed my rituals, I stumbled across this rusted iron... resting in the dense grass near Harriet Tubman’s childhood home.
Once part of a heavy door or gate, I paused and wondered—how many souls crossed that threshold or were confined by it?
The land is still holding memory. And after I opened the freedom portal and sealed the ground with offerings, I felt a shift. I was exhausted and slept for almost 12 hours and was still tired when I woke up today. Needless to say, in my dream this morning (spiritual realm), them Ancestors put me to work to feed that rice to all the one's that crossed over 😩😂🤣
It sounds good, but Jah Jah... heavy is the crown for the one's who overstand 🫶🏿
📽 View part I of my visit at Harriet Tubman’s childhood home and the underground railroad.
One Love 🌬
🫱🏻🫲🏾
