And the ancestors spoke and said
“Child, find your voice”
“Do not sit mutely watching the world go by”
“Use your voice and remind the people of the price of silence”
The price of silence, they gave me to understand:
Injustices, heartache, pain on every level of one’s being
But I answered them, “I have not your strength, I am weak”
And that quiet voice I attribute to them wisely advised:
“Even an infant cries out for what it needs; even a child loves, if taught love”
And then I whined and rationalized and said again,
“I am not wise. I do not understand”
They answered, “Hear us, then, let us teach you …
Sit by the ocean, feel the moisture of the waves as the wind brings it to you
And the scent of the briny air
Walk in the forest feel the softness of the earth beneath your feet
Hear the birds sing and insects buzz
Go to the mountains and look up at the wonder before you
Feel its majesty and grandeur
Venture out into the dessert and on the sandy dunes feel the sun hot upon your skin
Visit the fields and meadows and dig in the soil for plants that nourish
And when you know the blessings of the earth turn and share them
As the wind brings moisture to the land, give drink to those who thirst
As the forest offers shelter, give shelter to those in need
As the mountains make us pause in wonder, give joy and wonder to those who despair
As the sun heats the dessert, bring warmth and compassion to those who are cold
As the fields and meadows offer sustenance, feed those who hunger
But most of all, feel, for when you feel deeply you will not turn from another in need”
And so, I found my voice, and though it may be soft and weak, I will use it here
Thank you, Ancestors
