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
Torrents
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
Knowings
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
even,
especially,
at the Breaking Points
Hand on back of Heart
Asé
Asé
Asé-O
Sweet Chaotic Silence 
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!