The Voice of the Ancestors

It's the voice that springs forth from the library of wisdom within my deoxyribonucleic acid, and the one that gives me comfort when the realities of my existence feel a bit too graphic. The one that chases away those who feed off extreme emotion and always leaves me feeling placid.

The one who helps me find the eye in the midst of my mental storm and gives birth to an understanding of the illusions that manifest themselves in physical form. The one who wraps me in a cloak of comfort and connection when I feel abandoned and forlorn.

It's the voice of the one that both cries out for healing and gives me the strength to break through my self-imposed psychospiritual ceiling.

The one who guides and teaches me when I'm not awake and shows me all the new realities that I can and will create.

The one who both sings an ancient song that causes the walls of my inner temple to reverberate and guides me to the point of focus in the fire when I meditate.

It's the visions of past, present, and future and the acknowledgment of my psychic squalling, and the knowledge that deep down within, I've already accepted my ancestral calling.

I will walk the path of the healer, out of distress and disease other I will hoist. I will keep the wisdom of my ancestors, and to them, I will gift the vehicle of a modern voice.