[Poetry] A Song To My Grandmothers, The Ones I Knew And The Ones I Did Not.

Be still, oh my wanderer’s soul, be still.
For now is the time of resting
Of healing,
Now is the time of the inner wandering
Not the time for the outer wandering.

Be still, oh my path-hungry soul,
For you hear the mountains singing as I do,
You hear the tall grass cooing as I do,
You hear the whispers of stories untold,
And the tales of things unlost.
You hear the Universe sing-
As I do not,
As I cannot.

Be still, my wanderer’s soul,
For I am silent,
My silence is for your song,
A song that demands I dance,
A song that demands I move my feet,
A song that demands what I cannot give it,
So I am silent,
So I listen,
And the song goes on.
My god how beautifully you sing, o my soul.
O my soul.

Soon shall we go, my wanderer’s soul,
And with you,
all will be well,
as with me all is not well,
All is well,
as all will be well.
So be still, my wandering soul.
Be still, and let us listen.