deedeewisdom

I speak to you, my Irish peasant ancestor
I speak to you, my Mohawk shaman
I speak to you, those women who bore the child
Then died

All thousands of you.

You who begot me
You who bore me
You whose eyes I now possess

And pray that from your cells
And from your journey

I may then beget to life
And to humanity

Your ongoing love

Diane Findlen Garrow