Though you may
bury us,
we rise.
From ashes and mud,
blood and bone,
we remake ourselves
from the sand
and the stone
that covered us,
smothered us.
Though we are
gone,
our spirits are
strong.
We climb,
we reach
our withered fingers
into the sky,
and sing the song
no man can
silence.
Though few may
hear,
we will sing
for those listening.
A Virginia Writer's Diary 
Oh Katie–this is powerful as well as poetic.
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Thank you so much!
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Well said.
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Thank you! Glad you thought so. 🙂
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I can sense the strength of the ancestors in this lovely poem. Such a beautiful flow to it!
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Thank you so much!
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Very inspiring words about triumphing against the odds. 🙂 Beautifully written ❤
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Thank you!
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“Though few may
hear,
we will sing
for those listening.”
A beautiful ending to a lovely poem.
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Thank you very much. 🙂
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