“Ancestral Flooding”

Rain is falling
falling
and memories keep flooding by.

I stand alone
yet surrounded by memories
memories which swirl around me.
Voices of those gone before me
those who have been lost
lost to time
locked within the dark reaches
of my heart.
A swollen moon
reveals a mist
a thin veil marking the boundary
between this place
and that beyond.

Rain is falling
falling
and memories keep flooding by.

I stand with my ancestors
hear their whispers
feel their strong touch upon my arm.
I am strengthened
by their words
by their presence.
I close my eyes and feel the rain
falling
falling upon my face
soaking my skin
enveloping me in their memories.


Written for two prompts today. The first is the Halloween prompt at With Real Toads, which asks us to use a line from another poem with a ghostly theme, and write a poem using it. The line I used is from Claribel Alegría’s “Rain“: Rain is falling / falling / and memories keep flooding by.

The second prompt I wrote this for is New World Creative Union’s Wednesday Wake-up Call, which asks us to write a poem honoring our ancestors.

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17 thoughts on ““Ancestral Flooding”

  1. A swollen moon
    reveals a mist
    a thin veil marking the boundary

    and you are strengthened by their presence. I love that, I really do. I love to take a sketch book to a cemetery (I’ve lived near some VERY nice ones – some with waterfront views) and sketch. The energy is actually really great. !!

  2. Nicely done! It’s great how you used the line from the other poem. And I like the idea of being flooded by memories, by the ancestors. I’d have to say my favorite lines are the same as others’ favorite…
    A swollen moon
    reveals a mist
    a thin veil marking the boundary

    You really captured something here in those lines…

  3. This is wonderful. I was thinking earlier about the number of people who derive support and comfort, wisdom and strength, from communion with their ancestors. I often find it hard to believe that all those people, from all around the world, and throughout so many centuries, were just imagining things the same things.
    K

  4. Yes, I can relate to this swirling of the memories around one. Mixed feeling to these ghostly visitors to the mind: one of the components is a touch of guilt.
    Was your swollen moon orange last night? Ours over here looked like a pumpkin. Couldn’t quite believe it.

  5. Pingback: “Ancestral Flooding” | The Creative Nexus | Scoop.it

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