Blood Flow (a poem)

One Grandmother built bombs

while the other prayed.

Both of their mothers knew abandonment

when it came to land

and their mothers.

Connections were broken.

Flow dammed up

backed up and up and away.

As their blood dries

Their stories fade

into the shadows of my body.

The resonance I carry

and can tune

by seeking harmony with

the past of all

Herstories.

I let my blood flow down

and it dismantles those ancient dams

so that I will not be bogged down

and soggy with secrets

or hungry ghosts.

My ancestors will nourish me.

Ignite in me the will to shine a light

on the fantastic future

Their hearts have secretly

always desired.

-Geneva Jacobs