The River of Forgetfulness

What do we know about who we are? 

You are my mother

your mother was your mother

and you bore daughters

who in turn bore daughters 

And there are the fathers. The fathers of the past and the present. And sons of course. Pride and Fear. 

Ha Men!

Long lines of ancestry and lives wading through rivers 

and climbing mountains

getting lost in valleys 

or perhaps finding rest 

by a cool pool of water 

So what do we know about who we are? 

we have forgotten

or deny it

or simply don't know 

Does the one who knows carry the responsibility?

Does the awareness call upon me 

to hold

to rest in silence 

and to seek peace? 

Rather than truth? 

For what is truth if you can't see it

if you can't feel it

our body lost from one life to another 

And yet, perhaps, there is a point to truth

How do I re-connect to the truth? 

By not forgetting 

Being 

That I am certain

It is in Being that I anchor my self

in the kernel of truth of the present

that contains the past and the future

My children help me to do that

In their demand for authentic

for real

connection

for the truth 

Why mama? 

In the truthful answer there is healing. Healing perhaps that can reach across the ancestors, where ultimately there is no need anymore to know what was and what could have been 

Just Being 

And Peace 

In the knowledge that things are going to be alright