The Blood that runs through every Human, comes from a common ancestry; not just the notion that all Life on Earth, has evolved from a Common evolutionary Tree; the Humans We evolved from, were conscious, they had Speech, Tools, complex intelligence; that community spread across the World. There is more diversity to Our ancestry, the Human with other Humanoids, though the Human that We know today, is common in ancestry, as We know ancestry to be.
This is true, but irrelevant to the point of this piece. I’m not just speaking about ancestry. It’s more about the meaning lost in a culture that worships extraction over connection and my personal struggle to integrate into a society that is sick. It’s also a recognition of history lost in blood, being cut off from the elders that hold wisdom which cannot be found in these modern trappings of constant consumption.
This one reads like it holds two tales... The story of your fractured becoming and the larger tale of the loss of an ancestry, a people. The poem weaves between them, lithe and clean. I almost wanted to see them separate, each holding its own voice...but then it began to haunt me more like it is.
Thank you, Kim. It was definitely difficult to figure out how to structure and what to include and what to delete. I feel like I could have made it twice as long, but didn’t want it to drag on 😅 there’s been a lot surfacing in me with this feeling of lost heritage.
The Blood that runs through every Human, comes from a common ancestry; not just the notion that all Life on Earth, has evolved from a Common evolutionary Tree; the Humans We evolved from, were conscious, they had Speech, Tools, complex intelligence; that community spread across the World. There is more diversity to Our ancestry, the Human with other Humanoids, though the Human that We know today, is common in ancestry, as We know ancestry to be.
This is true, but irrelevant to the point of this piece. I’m not just speaking about ancestry. It’s more about the meaning lost in a culture that worships extraction over connection and my personal struggle to integrate into a society that is sick. It’s also a recognition of history lost in blood, being cut off from the elders that hold wisdom which cannot be found in these modern trappings of constant consumption.
Powerful words about identity, belonging, survival, and reclaiming your voice.
The battle weary warrioress prevails. Somewhere between where she is and where she wants to be.
Precisely
🙌🏼
This one reads like it holds two tales... The story of your fractured becoming and the larger tale of the loss of an ancestry, a people. The poem weaves between them, lithe and clean. I almost wanted to see them separate, each holding its own voice...but then it began to haunt me more like it is.
Thank you for sharing this. Truly. I see you.
Thank you, Kim. It was definitely difficult to figure out how to structure and what to include and what to delete. I feel like I could have made it twice as long, but didn’t want it to drag on 😅 there’s been a lot surfacing in me with this feeling of lost heritage.
I appreciate you reading and reflecting 💜
A brilliant declaration of ones' true self.
Thank you so much