Ancestral tide

There is a vast ocean of souls

We are born froom

There is an ingoing and outgoing tide

That laps

While quietly whispering

Deep inside

There are ferocious storms that rise

You will not recognise the reason for

A family is a woven loom of souls

And sadly in later years we may never know

All they bore

I only know surely at times

You must have cried

For the baby born in 1789

That never got to live

For the daughter of 2

You beloved’s namesake

Gone far too soon

Mother and father were next

Then Mary who was only 28

Thomas and Honor both on the same day

Hovering on that burgeoning edge

Of tender adulthood

18 and 20 when they passed

And then your oldest son 2 years before you died

At 81

Reminding me of how heavy my mother’s heart felt

Losing her beloved oldest daughter

Two years before the angels came to take her home

Into the loving arms of our kin

Sometimes death calls my name

Someday its a challenge to anchor here

With no human hand to hold

No beloved’s eyes to gaze into

Then I recall how you often cried

What is to become of me?

As you wrung your hands

So much heartache and tragedy

Why do we forget the simple

Heart based fact

Connecting is all

And to honor the feelings carried silently

Deep inside?

Never mind?

Is not this human life a curious and painful mix

Of cruel and kind?

And is not our greatest task

To find some way to.make

A meaningful peace with it?