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Honor Them!

Trembling cradlers of civilization
altars to our ancestors
with names uncarved on tombstones
bodies made of ephemeral flesh
and holy bones, centuries old,
sprinkled with red dust, wine and oils
blessed in their astral journey by shamans
resting gently in the warm bossom
of the welcoming mother earth
with praying lips forever whispering

in the ears of ancient gods!
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Thursday, April 14, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: ancestors,nature,paganism
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Edward Kofi Louis 27 May 2016

Falling stars! ! With praying lips. Thanks for sharing.

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