I am not sure whether to call milk and honey a collection of poems or a journey written in poetic form, but the latter feels somewhat more suiting. Even though they can be read and cherished on their own, I believe together they become a much more powerful entity, they become someone.
Each poem is a color, has a particular density and intensity; as a whole, milk and honey is a spectrum, a portrait we instinctively identify with, even if just around the eyes.
It is blunt at times, unapologetic, but in a way that comes across as delicate. There might be a soft shade of anger, but absolutely no rage. There’s disappointment, sadness, grief and even faint traces of melancholy. As you go on though, as you go through milk and honey’s pages, these sentiments are not weight being set upon your shoulders. Instead, they seem to reach out to comfort you from within their ache. These are tears being poured on a seed of hope that will soon bloom, that will eventually blossom.
milk and honey is someone’s story, a story that has been made history. milk and honey is a hand that will lead you, not away from life’s heartbreaks, but through them. milk and honey is strength, self-love and self-acceptance, wonder… and so much more.
With ups and downs, a reflection of the rollercoaster that is life, milk and honey is both a beautifully intense read and a physically beautiful book.