Trees are like secret words
And mountains like reflections,
Painting rivers and lakes beneath our feet
Where the ancestors and the womb are one.
A recollection of memories long past
a union with the spirit,
and amidst the stars our history dances.
The ancestors and the womb are one,
they hug me quickly and softly
They touch me with the hands of time
and anoint my head with wisdom that is not from this day and time.
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR
Gad is a 25-year-old Rwandan Muslim who strives to walk the earth in humility, being grateful for life, and staying curious about the marvels of the universe.
