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It is Samhain

Fire blazes in brick hearth.

You who gifted me ancestral fire

I offer this rice for you!



You who dyed ostrich feathers, read tea leaves, made rugs, inscribed ledgers,

Lighted gas lamps, set type, cut bespoke suits, gave piano lessons

Within sound of Bow bells,

Who fought in London Rifles and Middlesex Regiment

Who shed your blood on the Somme

I offer this rice for you!


You who lived at St Giles Cripplegate

You who were married in St Andrew at the Wardrobe,

You who lie buried in quiet country churchyard in Worcestershire

I offer this rice for you!


You who fled the Cossacks

Who endured pogroms and persecution

You who lit the Samovar in Bessarabia

You who davvened in wooden synagogue near Krakow

You, the Ashkenazim

I offer this rice for you!


You who painted trompe d'oeil panels

You Southampton mariners, working the rigs

You who toiled in Brazilian sugar cane fields

You who groaned on Atlantic slave ship

You who walked in the agony of the slave collar

I offer this rice for you!


You who lit Samhain fires,

Who followed ancient Celtic faery faith

Whose green eyes sparkle in my face

Who dusted my skin with your freckles

Who blessed me with poesy and legend

I offer this rice for you!


You yurt dwelling nomads of Mongolia

Herders of horses, camel, sheep, goats, yaks

Who shaped my cheeks and oval eyes

I offer this rice for you!



You who dwelt in the land of milk and honey

You who escaped Pharaoh's slavery

You who received the covenant at Sinai!

You, Aryeh Jehudah

Who gave me your name and your eloquence!

You the God wrestler!

You Sara, woman of light!

You Abraham, father of many nations!

I am your child, remember me!


You of the Jewish diaspora!

You of the African diaspora!

You of the Amazon rainforest

You of the desert

You of the steppes

You of the savannah

You of the faery isles!

You of the black, white, red, brown and yellow nations

Who gave me the five gifts of Primordial Eve!

 You who through tortuous journeys

Came to the City on the Thames

Within sound of Bow bells

And in that crowded crucible

Shaped the alchemy of my life

For you, my ancestors

I offer this rice in prayer!













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    About this Entry

    This page contains a single entry by Alakananda Ma published on November 1, 2010 11:42 AM.

    Venice Moments was the previous entry in this blog.

    A Dream on the Occasion of All Saint's Day is the next entry in this blog.

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