Grandmother Sage

Alisa Muniz Blanchard all rights reserved

Something stirs the dreams of Grandmother Sage
Where she was called on by the ancestors to orchestrate
A rising metamorphosis of burning rage

Like thunder, her wise visions demonstrate
The truculently waking of dormant sensory
Born now are the children who can translate

Recapitulating the struggles through memory
For in their sight and direction hope is found
These warriors of the heart tell a new story

Ahead bewildering promise abound

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