THE WAY, FROM OVER THERE ❋ Abra Gist

Nican mopohua
Aqui se narra
Here it is told

You get the idea.

This Full Moon resonates with ancestral spirits
Those ghosts of past generations,
Who watch silently over our lives,
May be heard tonight…
WHIS PER ING
wisdom and guidance.

But I wonder,
Why do they suddenly have so
much guidance from beyond?
Why is it they never
shared this wisdom while here?

Do they bring stories?
Do they carry songs?
Do they deliver curas or curses?

My hairs stand at attention
on the back of my neck and shoulders
Tiny little antennae ready to receive.

I sit and let smudge sticks linger – waiting for a sign.

Do I listen?
Do I write?
Do I speak?
Do I dance?
Do I sing?

In the spaces where their hearts used to beat like drums,
where my heart used to beat,
beating away
pounding like thunder over and over:

I (thud) AM (thud)
I (thud) AM (thud)
I (thud) AM (thud)
I (thud) AM (thud)

I wonder if I (thud) AM (thud).
And if I ever Was
And if I will ever Be.

Nican mopohua
Aqui se narra
Here it is told