Carrying the family tears
weight that makes the shoulders sag
the unspoken heritage
the invisible chorus…

Someone has been left to do
the unfinished work of grieving –
and it goes unclaimed
Any one of us can pick it up again
at any time

and what would it feel like
to see our whole family,
and the next generation
standing upright at last?

But who can take the measure of that untold story,
unfurl the last needed testimony of the ghost company
and give them rest?

It would take a straight up hero,
and not your usual sort –
but a listener
someone to bear witness
to crimes, and shame,
to those life sustaining dreams,
and those victories that have never been celebrated

We all carry this weight
and it is thick water we move through
We inherit boundaries no one else sees

We may say it was not our doing,
that this past should have no claim on us,
but the jewel box placed in our crib at birth
also has these dark mysteries
no one has ever walked in
and until it is finished
this work of revelation
will wait and will haunt us
a pressing weight that one day has to speak its name