Libation – a poem

I remember the days

when you hold a jar of water

A metal gong

Then you shout that our ancestors must be called

they must be heard

You shout,

CALL THEM! CALL THEM!

Yes we call them

our ancestors

I guess they cheer

our ambition to reunite with them

these lines are a sign

that, like libation,

my soul is yearning

for liberation

unity of mankind

spirituality, may we free our minds