Ancestral Supplications

On those darkest of days,
When I feel no one cares
In that funnel of doom
The loneliness
Overwhelms me
Consumes me
Makes me feel
Empty
Blank
Useless
Flat
Fruitless
Forgettable
Unaware
Of my place
In the Universe
Reserved for me only
Kept by a thin veil of prayer
Of those who went before me
The supplications of ancestors
Feeds and Fashions my spirit and
Makes me whole again

The Watchers

We know you-
We have seen you in your darkest hour–
Though you call upon God,
You seek us for mortal comfort
to release your guilt.
We have been placeholders for your frustration,
Your condescension
We see you in the quiet hours when no one else is looking.
We have become invisible to you.
We are like furniture,
Objects objectified
Valued only by currency and stamina.
We see you in our restive state.

We watch and
​
We wait.

~ An elder passing is a library lost

~ Ancestral Vessels keepers of spirit, keepers of hope