“Oh You Mothers…”
This is the prayer I use when leaving offerings for my own ancestors.
Oh you mothers, all my mothers
Those who sleep in heavy soil,
Those who went to death so weary
All you thought was no more toil,
Those who danced with joy and laughter,
Those who fought to break the chains
Though you’ll know no more hereafters,
Here a part of you remains.
Oh you fathers, all my fathers
Those who dream in wet, black earth,
Those who let their dreams go hungry
So that mine could come to birth,
Those who died in rage and sorrow
Those who laughed and wandered free,
Though you’ll know no more tomorrows
Your tomorrows live in me.
All of you who came before me,
Though I know your names or not.
All who added to my story
Giving blood or deed or thought.
Take this food and…
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