Jazzmeia received at birth

Diamonds and flowers as her crown.

They grew from earth, rose from rivers,

Heralding how she was to strive.

 

She fulfilled intuitions.

She was not large, but titanic

As a regular volcano and Bird of Song,

Choosing boots, regal wraps, gems like Planets

​

The more Jazzmeia learned,

The surer was her mission.

South Dallas nurtured her--oh,

Community did what it will

Do to imbue inheritors

With a legacy of luminaries

Household, neighborhood, and far as

The highest Concert Halls.

 

A star is born, but then becomes

Her or his destiny through hel’la

Lot of Werke--hours each day

Over years and decades from roots and Rib

So that singing--and songs were never work--

Is like breath, water, and a range

Through heart's desire of wielding fire--

FIRE there beneath the Rib,

Pool and flame from the well of womb,

Charts simply manifest for skills and Spirits' journey.

​

We have IT from Jazzmeia now--

The whole package!—

Sinuous, dynamic, cascading scats of 16th-notes,

Digging deep as Tuvan and turbans

In her guttural percussion,

Digging deep as Africans may anguish

In one weeping Willow, 

Stamping her feet, kicking her heels, opening doors,

Flashing charms both nubile and wise,

Giving IT back, Giving IT out,

A Continuum embodied

Who knows where, more and how

Except surely forward

In her year named 30, Jazzmeia Horn!

 

 

                Don Paul, March 26, 2022;

                first pass March 24

                after hearing and seeing Jazzmeia and Trio

                of Ryan Hanseler, Amina Scott and Gerald Watkins,

                Jazz at the Sandbar in New Orleans, March 23.