Dance with the Dead
an Ancestor poem by Lilith Dorsey
Someday you’ll be dead,
That’s how this thing goes.
Someday you’ll be dead,
That’s all anyone knows.
Our sweet dead are waiting
To show us some love,
That survives across the ages,
Comes from deep below and above.
Listen closely to their words,
Their thoughts, their fears.
They still love us in death,
It transcends these cold years.
They remind us to Dance,
To joyously let go of the past,
To remember what’s precious,
’cause nothing really lasts.
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