Grandmother moon hung low, behind a thinly shifting veil of clouds.
A prismed auora circled her ancient face. She is stunning in her inspiration.
I stand below and lift my face to the brightness of the night sky.
I want to sing; lift my voice in praise to Great Spirit.
I want to raise my hands to touch the lessons held cradled,
cupped in the palms of the night.
I do not know what words to use. . .
All of a sudden I hear my Grandmother's voice,
soothing me, speaking my name.
"Nvyaosani, put your fears to rest.
You are my child, and just being here is enough."
So I stand; enveloped in the breeze; under the stars;
Alone in the ultimate presence of my ancestors
And I feel our spirits merge. I am them, and THEY are me.
I feel such peace.
Thank you Grandmother.
Thank you.