Joy … in ancestral memory
"The past could be jettisoned ... but the seeds got carried." Joan Dideon, Where I Was From
out of the womb of Time they slidepeasants and kings, artisans and queensmurders, warriors, healers, peacemakersthe mothers and grandmotherson whose shoulders we stand
they are with us, their spirits sensedthough unseentheir hearts are in our mouthsas they guard and guide
feet rooted in the mud of Earthwe drink the wine, eat the rootsand sing the songs we inheritedtheir sayings are our sayingstheir voices are our voicescarried on breezeslike the music of cathedral bellslike the call of the muezzinthey chime and summonthey sum what came before
from their gnosiswhispered in the ear of silencewe learn: we are nameless but not lostwe too shall echoshall be the shouldersshal...