Sunday, August 7, 2016

Ancestors Dancing in My Veins

They are nameless but their blood runs through my veins

I sob as I listen to the rhythm of the drum

I wonder if the holy chants provided the strength that led them to survive all the things that erased their humanity

Thoughts of them burying their hopes and dreams into the ears of an infant
who will never be seen again
but whose soul will instinctively, without knowledge of where or how the seed was planted,
remember their responsibility to quietly pass along the tiny whisper of hopes of returning home

I returned home today

Today, they danced in my veins

My soul felt their hands grasping through the chains
and their arms embracing
and their voices calling to my core
as some distant memory of who I must be
how I must live
how I must honor



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