UnEarthing

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your voice carries me
rising above the hustle
above the many footprints
that have caused such dismay
amongst the spirits of our ancestors

Carried on the wind
my body dissolves
I am,
but a being of light
the sheer brilliance
enhanced by this very night.

decades,
flash before the mirrors of time,
acts of kindness
create swirls of colour
that dance upon the shoulders of the lesser known.

I see them emerge from the edges
their wisdom lights the way,
Awoken from their slumber
they now join the many and cause ripples
that inject recognition into our days.

Their hands search for long forgotten spells,
to weave webs of remembrance.

Silence creeps in, as the dark veil weakens,
bodies sway in time with the rising moon
hypnotic
and enchanting
time stands still.
One clear swoop and they begin.

Unearthing!


8 Pillars of TribeSteemUp




DESERT ADVENTURE.png

poetry creativecoin esoteric palnet tribevibes ancestors
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acts of kindness
create swirls of colour

. . .

search for long forgotten spells,
to weave webs of remembrance.

The entire (autumnal/all saints and souls) poem is incredibly "imaginative" which means for me, accurately descriptive of this state of being unearthed, which every seer needs to be from time to time (and the dead most definitely!).

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