trans generational time travel

I look out the window

and the tree branches 

dance for me

as mental disturbances

shocking

and electrocuting 

with a flash 

of pain

no light

no thunder

but silently 

start terrorizing within;

your own mind

can turn against you

until rain 

falls from your eyes.

This innate unease

has always been there

no matter how far I reach back...

in my mind's eye

I can see

a giant weeping willow

swaying it's branches

like hair in the wind

and behind her

is my ancestor

living free

peaceful

moving to the wind

and smiling at the sky

as the field cradles stomping feet 

in rhythm...

but suddenly

when a branch falls

and she jumps out of fright

crouching down

still living on edge

I know it's because at anytime

a pale faced monster may come

can come

will come

eventually 

and disrupt

what they don't understand.

With one outstretched hand

a shield is formed

and wards off those

who like to perform evil

because that is their pain

and their karma

and they are blind

and bind themselves

into being sniveling beasts and hounds

snuffing out anything thing

that is not in chains,

just like them

because that is their sickness...

at least for a time.

And so this disturbance 

goes farther back

than I want it to,

but so does something else .

And they are coexisting together

neither just one or the other

but both

always there

side by side

it is 

resilience.

It is the balance

of trauma and healing

as we move forward in life.

And while my ancestor

dances under a tree

singing a song

of a girl

from a forward thinking time

who looks just like me

who remembered her

into being today

and never forgot something

that happened so long ago

but looked back

and appreciated who came before

and thanked them

for living on

when it hurt to just be..

so she 

could be

long after the song ended

because...

the tree that provided shade

and shelter

would become the weapon

used for my ancestors to be forced 

ripened

and hanging from its branches

it's fruit,

bittersweet;

and their blood

like honey

dripped on the grass

and soaked the ground

and sunk to the roots

and pumped it 

with a spirit

so full of life

that they were 

formed in a new way

shapeshifting

they became another.

So when I see 

that bent tree 

and hear it's branches moan

outside my window...

I remember my ancestor

still dancing

and singing,

but this time completely free

and waiting for the rest of us

to come home.