Ancestors

We see our eyes in your eyes.
We are becoming the ancestors,
Seeing the genes we pass on,
Coming out the eyes’ sparkle,
A turn of phrase, the curve of a smile.

We play the ancestors’ game with you;
“Got that from me, got that from him…
Haven’t seen that for many a year,
Remember how she used to tilt her head,
How he used to say `told you so!’
Just that way – memories carry in the blood.
With DNA, nothing is ever forgotten.

Perhaps this is how we are reborn,
Little pieces of us passing on through time;
Maybe they will all come together again,
And I will remember how to be.

Perhaps. But I see all of us in your eyes,
All our quirky ways, our hopes, our dreams.
We are becoming the ancestors,
And you carry pieces of us into the future.

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