My Grandfather is great and bright,
his heart is strong and his spirit shines.
He teaches me with great patience and wisdom
about the ways of my people,
lost in a sea of shame, but finding their way.
He fills my heart with compassion for those who forgot
the ways of the Earth; who wandered
great distances, settled in foreign lands,
rushed to conquer and spill blood.
He say’s in whispers
– a voice full of tears –
“As long as there is breath within,
you can be the memory of peace
and the possibility of sanctuary.”
My Grandfather warms my face,
lights the darkest places
just by wishing it to be so.
I listen to his soft voice so that no words
are lost to me
and when there are no words
I sit in his presence and listen another way.
My skin absorbs his teachings and he shares…
“I rise every morning and with each new day
offer you the gift to go another way.”
I tell my Grandfather of all the times
I have risen
only to fall.
the Earth shakes a little,
He says it matters
that I rise.
I rest my spirit in my Grandfathers’ loving light
and fall into soft warmth and gentle song.
There are no more words,
only the enormous sound of love
and the silent calling of my Ancestors.
I turn my face to the many
and welcome them into my heart.
I have found my tribe.