Bill taught me to dance
I still hear
‘where is your weight?
think, where are you centered?
A lost cause in second grade
Mrs. Mumford taught me to read
Books are your friends
Isn’t it wonderful to have lots of friends
My dad—just do your best, that’s all we ask
as he skipped the explanation pages
in my math book (you don’t need those
Here’s the ‘fun’ stuff)
My mom–you did the best you could
with what you had and what you knew at the time
Now, you’ll do better
a lesson in forgiveness
Grandmother– Work ethic
godhelpsthosewhohelpthemselvesnowgettowork
Papa–I’m sure you can get into Liberty college, I’m a donor
True belief, the desire to leave a legacy
do you hear them?
the voices that sketched you into being
leaving wide spaces for experience
and insisting your colors were yours
do you hear them?
places go, or if standing betray memory
people go, die or move on as they must
where should we go, which direction do we face’
what pilgrimage can we claim will cleanse our souls
where of the gone do we go
do you hear them?
while you attend to the busi-ness of days
when you stop, back to the door, asking how to go on
as you watch your kids, wishing who and who were here
go to them
you’re hearing their prayers for you
this is the every-day pilgrimage we’re given
turn your face to your past with love and listen
then return home, soul cleansed
knowing where to go