The ancestral grandmothers
gossip in the celestial skies
and the skies above
and inbetween.

They know.
They see a sadness
in the eyes of their daughters,
from the pre war times-
a premonition of things to come
and things that have been.

The grandmothers whisper
about the war
that crept over their land
like a large gnarly hand
with long thick fingers
that tried to grab
everyone on its way.

It was a time of troubles
that ran deep
into the blood
and deeper than that.

The grandmothers have seen this before.
Some have been in other wars
and some even in all the before wars.

As they swim amidst the seasons
of eternal time,
the grandmothers know
that their daughters are strong
and that they teach their sons
the goodness of all.

The grandmothers watch the earth
as the new year moves
around this planet.
Their hands cannot reach out
to push away
the most recent wars.

They sigh
and watch their children
in the past
and in the future.

The grandmothers whisper
to their grandaughters and sons
of strength
and endurance
and love.

------- Author's Notes -------

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Copyright©2021-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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