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We all have a story to tell. Some speak louder than others. Listen closely to hear the stories of our ancestors echoing under our footsteps. They are the authors. We are the keepers.

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Monday, September 7, 2009

Poem: Listen to the Whispers

As I lay me down to sleep, 
I close my eyes, but thoughts do creep, 
Of lists to do and plans to make, 
All lining up to seal my fate. 

And just before my mind shuts down, 
My heart leans in, to whisper the sound, 
Of my mother's words, again to say, 
"Don't loose yourself in your busy day."

The details that seem so important now,
Will fade into a blur somehow, 
"There will always be one more thing to do, 
But have you tended the gifts given unto you?"

It's true, I have neglected a part, 
That God has placed upon my heart, 
Stuffed in boxes beneath my bed, 
"Someday," is what I've always said. 

The time has come to tempt and tame, 
The sleeping beast of a thousand names, 
From its den so very dark and deep, 
Atop limbs and legacies, it sleeps. 

To heed the call from my soul within, 
A keeper, a teacher, a family historian, 
Building the future connecting the past, 
To give our children roots that will last. 

Remember your passions, as the days seem to fly, 
And on your dreams, be sure to keep your eye, 
For when it is, the time to wake, 
It is for you to choose the path to take. 

                                    Herstoryan

[A genealogy poem]

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