Honoring Our Ancestors

Reflected in my post of last Thursday, I believe that spending three days in retreat is an amazing gift to offer oneself. Words about my participation in this past weekend's retreat/workshop of honoring the Celtic celebration of Samhain and the Christian feasts of All Saints and All Souls could fill a book and will no doubt unfold in future posts. I will only say through the small poem below that reflecting upon my ancestors felt unfamiliar to me upon arriving at the retreat and unforgettably enriching with my departure.

This poem was written in response to one of the weekend leader's meditation and writing exercises - it is also my entry in the poetry party over at Abbey of the Arts this week.

Stepping across the threshold I'm greeted by a light....

A rush of family history and story floods my senses
Seeing through a thin blue veil of mist
I believe the sun is out, though not of that in August
But that of a crisp December day

Earl, Marion, Anne, Joanne, Uncle Slats, Paul
Where have they come from and why
Such a strange gathering greeting me with loving faces, outstretched arms
My heart is stopped, still, like a stone

DANG! I'm dead, I must be dead
No, yes, no - my breath has stopped but I'm not dead at all
Stop, stop with the logic - hold these moments

My own thanksgiving and love for them covers me - akin to the mist of welcome
I'm very much alive and being embraced by the family of my youth
Realizing they've never left me - their love still supporting and blessing me

Stepping across the threshold I'm greeted by a light....

Photo by Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts