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Writer's picturesamobohak

The Call


The Call


I hear the Ancestor’s call,

from a land from time beyond time.


Tey are like streams of Light,

Of various colours and none.


They speak from a place beyond

Creed,

Race,

or idea of


right

and

wrong


doing.


And no doing.


I hear their call.

I do not know,

what it means


really.


But I hear it,

and it


feels


good.


And the herbs from my mother's garden

are a pathway


to Divinity.




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