Clouds of Ancestors

Great clouds of ancestors arrive and surround me,

Ancient fingers reaching through the air,

Stroking my hair, patting my shoulder,

Whispering:

We survived

So will you

Stand tall

Hold tight

Everything will be alright.

And echos of cattle trains mix with bird song,

And strengthen me to rise and face the day.

Ancestors wrapped like a cloak, a mantle

Around me.

Sent from my iPhone

Krystyna Rawicz FSCSI, FRICS

Managing Director 

KRA Visionary Project Partners