Monday, November 2, 2009

Ancestral Memories / Ancestral Love

The topic of Abbey of the Arts Poetry Party was my inspiration for this post. The pastel drawing was created by me a number of years ago and I wrote the poem and posted it with another piece of art last year, but both are reflective of each other. As I looked at the drawing, which I have always loved, I noticed how the grandmother's hand gently sits upon the arch of the handle of the basket that is a cradle for the child. The handle resembles a bridge between the two of them with the grandmother's hand supporting it with loving protection. We never lose connection with our ancestors. We are interwoven with them with strands of love. They stand behind us in united waves of strength, waiting for us to call upon them for guidance and support. Concurrently, when we heal our lives, we heal a part of our lineage, for our ancestors, as well as our descendants. They were born to help us, as we were born to help them. Listen for them. They call to us in unexpected ways: the whisper of the wind; a burst of sunlight; the song of a bird; the buoyant presence of joy or in a moment of profound remembrance of them. They are with us.

The sun smiles

and the moon beams
throughout infinite
cycles of life
shining through the stars
of our bones …
revealing ancestral bridges
paved in love
that applauds us.
holy blessings.
gifts of light.
we are the substance
of our ancestors
and they…
ever after…are us.

Kate Jobe 9/8/2008