The Family Tree
One tree outlives the mighty oak
Because it's made of special folk,
Through generations changing form,
Providing shelter from life's storm.
Our parents' parents and before,
Who may have lived on distant shores,
They root our lives in memories;
We're nourished by their histories.
A sturdy trunk that lends support
And gives us care of every sort -
The fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts,
Who nurture us like tender plants.
The children, branching toward the sky,
Have brand new dreams and deeds to try.
And babies, buds that seem so small,
Will flower so the tree grows tall.
Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
The way I walk
I see my mother walking
My feet secure
and firm upon the ground
The way I talk
I hear my daughter talking,
And hear my mother's echo
in the sound.
The way she thought
I find myself now thinking,
The generations linking
In a firm continuum of mind.
The bridge of immortality
The voice before me echoing behind.
The Family Tree
There's a tree that grows within my house,
a tree with many lives;
It holds within it's great branches
a tale that makes it thrive.
Among it's leaves are many faces
of those from whom I came;
It's bark is the strength of family
it's roots became my name.
This tree is very precious
it has lived untold years;
It will live on in life and memory,
and bring both joy and tears.
My family tree is a treasure
that I'll pass on to mine;
They'll nurture it and make it grow
until the end of time.