Ancestral Poems - Poems about Ancestral

No colder winter's evening reawakens, in an abrupt glance, this memory from others already faded in the inattentive recollection of a son's mind; even insignificant moments are worthy of thought. A pubescent boy unlearned and precarious at giving advice, but ready to provide that tenderness in exploding emotions... realizing that he would reach the same level of consciousness: whether or not his...

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In our land, there are no towering peaks, To guide our dreams to the heights one seeks. Even humble rocks resemble great hills, And groves seem like forests in their thrills. Our rivers don’t rush with a turbulent flow, They meander gently, serene and slow. You can’t quench your thirst with a single sip, When your lips are parched and cracked at...

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On a rope woven from ancestral nightmares and the greed of shadow monsters, I step with bare feet, while my thoughts dance chaotically in a penumbra, Between dream and reality, between sky and earth, between here and beyond myself, I float suspended in the cold air, and the city below reveals its posthumous secrets. They always whispered not to...

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Midnight of October thirty first I jumped out of bed to quench my thirst As I groped my way down the huge kitchen An eerie coldness crept on my skin and then... When I fumbled the light’s switch on the wall I was frozen to hear deep whispering calls Echoing laughter followed my repeated name I couldn’t move back, I felt completely...

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May we be thankful for the gifts we inherited from our ancestors that never ending chain of people who came before us their gifts of love and joy and laughter…. they left us before passing on… And may we be blessed that our love and joy and laugher can be found upon the chain… long after we are gone. ...

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Ancestral Whispers In the depths of the earth, the roots of time stretch like pulsing veins, Nourishing the collective memory with the fertile essence of our past, And I, a poet wandering through forgotten eras, gather crumbs of wisdom from the sacred soil. Magical animals dance in my dreams, fluid contours of light and shadow, Their eyes glisten with secrets...

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Under the endless sky, where the wind whispers ancestral secrets, Engines spin, iron butterflies in their primal dance, The muted thunder of wheels, an echo of the earth's hearts beating in unison, And the rain, a master sculptor, shapes stone and brick walls into dreamlike bas-reliefs. Deserted roads, bordered by ancient...

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Dark rainbowed wings enfold a tortured heart An oil slick presence seeping through its core As scarecrow scowls shout “oh please depart” An ocean scent drifts idly far from shore The corn has withered now the stalks but sticks Old barns the only hope of hungry mouse Sharp beaks and padded paws defy its tricks Soft circling clouds of warmth surround the...

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I hope that you are inspired and uplifted by these words. Stay blessed and know that you are loved and protected. Channel your ancestral power By Michelle Morris 17/07/2023 Channel your ancestral power Feel their arms around your whole You are stronger than you realise You are courageous and can grow Into the role the Universe has for you To be unique...

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ancestral colours rallying the clans Culloden day trip...

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Have you heard Of Thomas The Rhymer It is told that I sprang from his loins Many years Long gone past Yet the tales That last Are often quietly purloined The story goes He disappeared To consort with the elfin queen He returned By and by Telling this lie to any who thought it keen Maybe he stayed To long in His cups to go home in disgrace Of the dreaded din And the rolling pin He...

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Distant drums voice sacred song as didgeridoo drone rings its messages to my awaiting ears; ancient ceremonies flood the canyon in tones of ancestral wisdom. Every rock or boulder resonates, crickets sing along and each cell of my being is elevated; I feel the energies of times long passed; those speakers of the truth, as shamanic echoes transport me to past centuries. I've hear it said that our...

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As They Flee As they flee, those families Grasping onto one another, Have given up that extra valise, (All the news reporters note) To keep arms free To carry Babes and pets — The beloved of the truly Civilized — ready To leave their cars jammed By their leaving; choosing To go on for miles, To go on, as refugees Walking the many miles, Abandoning the material...

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A man who doesn’t love his mother tongue is worse than a rotten fish....

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Do you think that our ancestral cave people had dreams of cars? Did their hearts leap a bit when they stared up at stars? Would the brightest of the bright envision their family flying in the air? Can you imagine if they awoke today and saw computers? Would I-phones scare them? Would our social isolation be any different than their...

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