JEWISH ART LAB 2017

Blood Memory

Wisdom of my father's father
came to me through blood line 
and blood memory.

Soul donor from long-ago, 
life-force of blood transfer  
as my first cries were heard.

Wisdom of my father's father
came through bright marrow 
and ancient DNA.

At age 56 (when I was three),
he put me in his pocket and went away.
Pulse, flow, pulse, flow ... slow. Stop. 

Family stories unfinished,
marker in my daydreams still,
with every cell attuned.

Recurring memories of the future,
leaning into all that my father's father 
has yet to teach me.