Ancestors

A recent poem

I press the back of my hand 
To my child’s feverish forehead 
My mouth pressed tight and 
Lips turned down at the corners 
And I see my mother 
And grandmother
And aunts  
Throughout time 
Doing the same thing 
Kneeling at a child’s bedside 
Fussing and worrying 
And humming sweet songs 

I wash my rice until the water turns clear
Loose fingers dipped into the wet grains 
Swirling and stirring 
And I am my great grandmother 
Trying to feed a family 
With a smidge of love 
And a hope and a prayer 
For them to grow 
And be strong 
And do good 

I braid my hair at night 
Tucked over my right shoulder
Sighing and rubbing my eyes 
Because tomorrow is a new day 
And tonight still has worries 
Just like the women before me 
Who all did the same 

We all shuttle into each other 
The ribbon of time folding against itself 
Until we are all echoes and mirrors 
Of the ones who came before 
And of the one who will come next 

The world is not lonely 
When their blood beats through my heart 
Their freckled skin is my skin
The crook of their noses 
And the creak in their knees 
Are mine to hold too 
Now