From the tombs of time
I hear my ancestors cry
Why the lives they lived
Reached for their home in the sky.
Their burdens made blessings
Their distructions they made work
Their frustrations made them humble
Their love covered their hurt.
The downside of life
Always has a flip
Sometimes we lose patience
Sometimes we lose grip.
If we seek the importance
Of our ancestors cry
We will live less in crisis
And can recover a good life.
Cecelia Weir
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ancestors-cry/
