In a dream
I walked amongst the ancestors,
They tended their fires,
played flutes and drums.
and danced as only the elders could.
I watched as an old woman
took ashes from the fire
and spit on them.
Then rolling them
into a ball,
which she tossed
again and again into the air.
With each toss,
the ball changed,
until it was a tiny replica
of our own Earth.
With tears in her eyes,
she handed it to me.
I held it up against the sky,
and was amazed to feel it vibrate.
It was alive!
There were tiny birds in the skies,
the blue rivers and the seas
churned with fish and water creatures,
The land itself was alive
with animals, insects and reptiles,
many of whom have been extinct
for longer that I have lived.
This tiny blue and green Earth was perfect,
unblemished, it was as it had been
when the people themselves
were brand new.
I looked into the old woman’s face
and heard her say.
“Go back now,
be the voice for those
who cannot speak for themselves,
and for the Earth, our Mother.
Hurry child, time passes quickly.”
When I awoke,
I held in my hand a ball,
colored blue and green.
I held that tiny ball
up against the big sky,
and whispered,
“Yes grandmother.
Yes.”
In A Dress Made Of Butterflies by Sandra Lee Stillwell