Ancestors.
Are you proud—of me?
I ask because I was led to believe that my life must be a source of pride for you. That I must honor you in all ways within my capacity.
My life would need to be a reflection of the things you worked and fought for.
My life would be a link in the inter generational chain that connects us.
I hear the echoes of your cries in the oppressive light in the fields.
Does my work honor your work?
I feel your joy in the face of exhaustion when I come home each day.
Does my joy reflect gratitude for the times you looked deep within to cast off the world’s weight and matched our zeal for play?
Your sorrow for doing what was demanded of or allowed for you in
Do I honor the choices that you created for me?
My quiet smiles that I share with myself remind me that I am connected to you. That our chains are strong and intact.
Will my eventual passing represent another stair to climb for those that I leave behind?
