Episode 4 - Our Lost Ancestors: A Poem

Folklore and Stories from The Sacred Isle

The ancestors of those that live on the Island built monuments that were supposed to stand forever. In stead we have desecrated them and their memories.
Our ancestors looking forward in time,
Believed respect would be eternal,
But today we play for fun on their graves,
And here we are, with wind and waves,
My heart is broken, bleeding with shame,
How did we let this happen?
Back in time their names were spoken,
Never forgotten and always revered,
But thousands of years have passed since then,
And the respect we pay to the women and men,
Is to rip up their graves, defile their names,
How did we let this happen?
When did it become the norm to dismiss,
To ignore the spirits and to forget?
What would they think, if they could see,
The desecration of their legacy?
So we ripped them up, we dig them out,
How did we let this happen?
These are not just monuments of death,
They are the homes of our ancestors,
Their link to to earth from the spirit land,
Built with tools, by human hand,
They built them up, we broken them down,
How did we let this happen?
We the present, look back in time,
A reflection of them looking back,
We must remember and never forget,
That we lost their names, we lost respect,
We must stop, I say, No more!
We can't let this happen.