My forefathers gave me
My spirit’s shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
The letters of my name.
~ Sara Teasdale
(Driftwood)
my spirit’s shaken flame
My forefathers gave me
My spirit’s shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
The letters of my name.
~ Sara Teasdale
(Driftwood)
Indeed – but you can then go ahead and write your name, life, future you way you want.
Yes, it’s as if our ancestors deal us a hand of cards and we play them as best we can…
Hi Barbara,
Very Nice. A great photo as well, goes perfectly with the poetry.
Thank you, magsx2! Whenever I see driftwood I start wondering from where it originated and what it might have been through to arrive on the particular beach where it is finally resting.
I can smell the sea, and hear the soft murmur of the ancestors and their blessings in the lapping waves.
I love your very evocative words, Kathy! Hearing my ancestors’ blessings this week and have been doing some work on the family history to honor them…
Really nice, Barbara. 🙂
Thank you, Robin!
Oh that is lovely Barbara! I like how it makes us stop and think…
Thank you, Rosie! When I was little and my mother would explain something to me, like the “butterflies” in my stomach whenever I was nervous about something new, I used to wonder who told it to her, and how far back the telling would go. How many generations to the mother who first used the metaphor to encourage and reassure her child?