Oil on Canvas 24×30
My ancestors lived.
We knew harmony and the ways of Creation,
How to live our unique gifts and breathe them generously.
We honoured the Mother; belonging and bending to the land.
These were unspoken truths, ways of being and teachings
Whispered by the Grandmothers and Grandfathers:
Love, Truth, Bravery, Honesty, Humility, Respect, Wisdom.
With my fire almost out, at the place they call rock bottom,
I heard those words through the unbreakable connection.
I began to dig out of my grave with claws of grief,
And hands of shame, moving aside, piece by piece,
Stone, dirt, matted hair, blood, spit, tears, bones broken,
Muscles torn by punches, bullets, neglect, abandonment,
Poverty, screaming fear. Did you hear it?
All that had crushed me, leaving little room for my fire to burn.
When the heaviest of trauma and wounding released,
Starving for air – the fire rekindled.
And maybe for the first time, I could move forward, to live,
To be free from many prisons.
Now I’m finding my way back home – here.
Home to that bright sacredness inside of me, inside of you,
lnside of us all.