On another platform we were discussing the dearth of prayers for descendants compared to the wealth of those for ancestors. To combat the lack I wrote one.
A Prayer for Descendants
My name is not a whisper in your ancestors’ ears,
so long gone,
a gossamer memory tattered by millenia.
When breezes lie soft on cheeks and hair,
and rains gentle across your lands;
when baby rabbits play tag nearby,
and hope lines the pockets in your soul;
when drink on tongue quenches deep thirst,
and laughter percolates crevices in
know this, dear one,
It was me,
kissing love into the stars,
to sift thru dark skies,
and weave into dreams
to bespatter your days.