I’M Not Alone

By Staycia Dillard

From Staycia Dillards book of poetry, Words of Affirmation, comes to life a poetess, Makeda Brukawits, in the sequel, Im Not Alone. Another season has ended in her life. With the path that has now been chosen, she finds herself happily married and living in Lafayette, Louisiana. However, this had not always been the case. Reflecting upon her lifes journey evokes memories of seasons passed and many storms endured, conceiving doors of indiscretions and shame. Seeking to find the answer to the purpose, Makeda returns to the only one that can provide the answers, learning the most critical lesson of allshe was never alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543426397

Staycia Dillard

Staycia Dillard was born and raised in Newburgh, New York. Creative literature is her gifting in which she started writing poetry at the age of nine. She graduated Cum Laude at Marist College with a Bachelors in Science and later attended Lehman College where she received a Master's in Social Work. It was a life threatening experience that reconnected her with the Creator in which began her spiritual journey. Since her awakening, the Creator has opened her understanding, that there are no regrets just life lessons learned to prepare her for a higher purpose. The Creator has gifted her with Seeds to share with others through her poetry. "Words of Affirmation" is her first book of poems written to encourage those seeking to maintain the balance to defining one's true Self.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Staycia Dillard.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017908362

ISBN:      Hardcover            978-1-5434-2638-0

                Softcover              978-1-5434-2637-3

                eBook                   978-1-5434-2639-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The characters in this book I’m not Alone are fictional. All names of businesses, places, events and incidents are the product of this Author’s imagination and is being used in a fictitious manner. Therefore any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events are purely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/25/2017

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Contents

Prologue

I’m Not Alone

Chapter 1

The Sparrow

In The Morning

Blissful

Chapter 2

Home

Where Is My Darkness?

The Journey

Chapter 3

Daddy’s Home

The Aura

Chapter 4

Daddy, Comb My Hair

Love Me

Chapter 5

Where Is My Sovereignty?

Mama’s Admiration

Mama’s Prayer

Chapter 6

Spirit To Spirit

Two Faces Have I

Silence

Pra-Cho-Da-Yat

Epilogue

Gifted Am I

These seeds are dedicated to the two pillars that have been gifted unto me in this lifetime, Dormayne Dillard and Fredericka Dillard, my sisters. Not only are they biologically and spiritually bonded, but they were also strategically placed on the soil of this earthly realm by the Master himself. It is their strength and profundity that taught me not to be deceived by the intensity of the storms; like all things, they too shall pass. However, try to remain focused on the Master and the purpose, because how you perceive a storm will always determine its outcome. We are all on a journey, so we will encounter many seasons. As we walk, lessons are learned and wisdom is obtained, which makes change inevitable. Change implies growth; knowledge is infinite. Therefore, once we are gifted the opportunity to enter the portal of time, we will always be in transition. So never deny yourself the prerogative to change.

Time is in continuous motion, which makes change inevitable. Therefore, time can never be lost. It can only be wasted.

—Staycia Dillard

Prologue

I heard creaking coming from the parquet floors, alerting me to footsteps cautiously walking down the darkened hallway outside my bedroom door. "Have spirits come to visit me? Can’t be, I said to myself, It’s just the house settling in for the night." I lay still on the king-size bed, feeling the velvetiness of the satin sheets underneath my tired limbs. Several goose-feathered pillows held my head from the plush mattress beneath, while the others held my limbs like a ring being presented by the ring bearer to the groom on a wedding day.

So this is royalty? I said to myself. Never thought I would be here. God, are you there?

The sounds of the creaking parquet seemed to diminish as the howling wind began the tempo of a symphony now playing outside my home. The dominance this concerto produced forced the trees’ limbs to sway and participate in this grand musical. Act 1, the light flashed through my window; my eyes followed the movements of the tree branches as the images danced on the wall of my darkening bedroom. My spirit was marveled, for only the Creator could design such a tempo. I shivered as tiny goose pimples formed on my damp skin, provoked by the cool air blowing from the ceiling fan.

My eyes swiftly left the performance to now focus on the leaf-shaped blades of the fan circling above. I studied each mahogany leaf as they went round and round, one imitating the other imitating the other. Sort of like my life once was, I thought, as I made mistake after mistake. My thoughts were now interrupted by the sound of the steady beat of the falling rain.

As the rain fell harder, the sound mimicked nails falling from a table onto a floor. Another flash of light came through my window, and then I heard a crackle of thunder. I smiled to myself, for the thunder always gave me comfort and palliated my aching soul. I rolled over to the edge of the bed, sat up, and slid my feet into the white satin slippers on the floor. Each flash of light gave a snapshot of what appeared to be mirrored reflections of objects on the dark mahogany wood underneath my feet.

I picked up my silk robe that lay across the foot of the bed, slid it on, and tied the belt tightly around my waist. The sound of the rain beating against the glass led my footsteps to the full-length window that was now dark and opaque. I was once told to never stand by the window when there was lightning. However, I never paid much attention to that old wives’ tale. I had no fear. There was a level of reassurance I felt from the clap of thunder and the design of the lightning bolts drawn on the sky.

Ever since I was a child, I believed that the sound of thunder was a definite indicator from the Creator. He was letting me know with no uncertainty that he still sat on the circle of the earth; therefore, I remained silent as an act of homage while he expressed his dominion. The flash appeared again and then, seconds later, came the manifestation. I waited silently to see his sovereignty, but the sound of his voice that was all so bold and boisterous began to fade off in