a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Monday, March 23, 2015

Ancestors' Walk

I walked their path
Through clay
and wild grass

Stolen sleep burns my eyes
These are the beginnings
and the end

I dream I am
Powers awaken
breathing ancestors' air

12 comments:

Delores said...

Very nice...occupying the ancestors air space.

Sandra said...

I love this and the part about breathing your ancestors air..

Linda Kay said...

Stolen sleep burns my eyes....I love that picture this phrase creates. I can almost feel it as I write this, having gotten up way too early this morning!

Weekend-Windup said...

Loved reading your words!

Jae Rose said...

Sometimes land has a tangible feel to it - of feet walking the same ground at a different time...magical!

LindaG said...

Nice job, Gail. :-)

Sketching with Dogs said...

I know you can write this lovely poem through personal experience.
Lynne x

Karen S. said...

....and what a lovely nature it is to share in thoughts of the lives they led.

S.E.Ingraham said...

Very nicely done, and so succinctly...
I love anything that works the ancestors in.

https://nsaynne.wordpress.com/2015/03/23/morpheus-hear-my-cry-2/

Susan Kane said...

I do enjoy how you play with words.

Susan Anderson said...

You just keep getting better, my friend.

=)

Lynne said...

I liked . . . especially Ancestors Air . . .

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