top of page
  • Writer's pictureHeathens of Yorkshire

Sitting with my Ancestors - by Rich Green

Come find me in the wooded place, and sit a while beneath my bough. Come shelter neath my many limbs, and sing to me the song of now.

And I will gently bend and sway, Delighting in your company. And i will hear your inner voice, As sweet as blessed mead to me.

Sing soft to me your troubles here, no other soul can hear but I. My great roots deep within the earth, Are nourished by the tears you cry.

And when your heart is comforted, And your sweet song is at its end. I'll teach to you to your ancestry, For we are far more than friends.

Your father was the mighty Ash, and your mother the noble Elm. And you were tasked with stewardship, Of all the life within this realm.

So sit beneath my twisted bark, And hear the truth that I bestow. Without the tears for all that dies, Nothing lasting can ever grow.

Teach all your children how to grieve, Remember those who've gone before. Honouring them with songs and tales, In memory forever more.

Richard Green 2019

20 views0 comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page