Oracle Jacqueline Johnson for Gloria Foster Neo and Morpheus are looking for you in between the in between. You sit like any wise woman, sister in your kitchen. Forget the walnut wood table, platter of cookies  against a corner wall like some kind of altar where all truth is dispensed. No time to play with cowrie shells, tea leaves, coins, objects of performance; no time for ritual either. You stand cooking much of nothing, offering  neither tea nor directions to the way. What light can you shine into brilliance of an overly lit sky? Just cookies.   You offer fresh from the [...]