Ancestry...Dia de los Muertos,
The day of the Dead,
Honored ancestors,
A festival of love and respect,
The missing link,
Perhaps.
I wonder if sugar skulls and marigolds can cross borders,
Between worlds or nations or generations,
Or do all leaves here vanish with the wind?
The leaves have all but disappeared,
From my ancestral topiary.
Base is a hollow cove,
Tree-Tattoos have long vanished.
Severed the connection,
To branches of time.
Perhaps,
Roots to the vessels before me,
Only as strong as my imagination.
Mom was strong in this world,
Leaving like a kitten,
Lovable but with sharp spots,
She's here with ghost pictures,
Noni and Nono,
Gramma and Grampa,
Aunt Birdene,
Noni's Mom,
Gramma Hazel,
They keep me company nights at work,
Help me remember life's precious worth.
It's my honor and duty,
That they live in my heart,
Like a candle that burns,
Just as long as I do.
Much of my ancestral bloodline,
Has been slashed at the source.
Psychotic dictator lay waste,
Filled past with screaming ghosts.
No branches remained vital,
To bear flowering fruit.
I am grateful two sisters immigrated,
But eleven stayed; thus their fate,
Relinquished to the abominable monster.
My grandmother and my aunt were left,
Grief stricken at such a profound level.
Articulation was tear filled and heartbroken,
Minimal were the words of Remembrance.
And so I look at traditions around me,
Seeking to salve what was broken,
By celebrating what love was,
Far more an honor, than bleak pain.
AquarianM (
aquarianm.u.yuku.com/ ) & Allie612 (
allie612.u.yuku.com/ )
(C) 10/04/2011
By Daniel A. Stafford & Allie Ilenez
