I am my Ancestors’ Daugther
Blood from Blood
Blood to Ashes
I carry Their Prayers like Songs
Their Grief like incoherent Whispers
felt in the bottoms of my feet

My Ancestors’ Strength runs through me like
I get swept away, They catch me
Their Sorrows like furniture in
Heart’s Basement
Light shifts in the room
small beams of Joy playing in the sparkle of
Dust and Shadow

I am my Ancestors’ keeper
I hold Their Stories and Secrets, often unbeknownst to me
I open drawers and discover
You have Her nose, They say

Bring Whiskey
Bring Coffee
knock Stone against Stone
They answer,
wrapping Warmth
around my shoulders

You’ve Got This
We’ve Got You

Re-Membering often happens in the Darkness
Piece by piece,
They put me (back) together
Piece by piece,
They are no longer fragments

We stand
Hand on back of Heart
Hand on back of Heart
An unbroken Line
at the Breaking Points

Hand on back of Heart


Published by myriam khouzam

i am interested by life's simple intricacies. i am silence and noise. i am duality. i am a raw treat making, yoga teaching, dog walking lover of life.

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1 Comment

  1. Je viens de lire ton poème…et on dit que j’ai une belle plume! Rien comparé ã toi et ce que je viens de lire trois fois à la file… Tu as des mots legers et des enchaînements inusités qui prennent par surprise, qui évoquent des images qui, à leur tour, évoquent des sentiments et des sensations. Oui, en effet, ne sommes-nous pas le fruits de nos ancêtres, de leurs gènes, de leur histoire? Et ça, ça se célèbre… Beautifully said!

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