Feeling so lost, you use a tribal
name, to attract
somehow
your scattered family, regain
your buried culture.
I have my little signatures, tribal
marks, to signal
somehow
my scattered fellows, recover
my hidden kin.
Occasionally they find me, allow their tribal
scars to sense
somehow
these frayed links, uncover
these blurred sensibilities.
Are we too old and blind for our tribal
rituals to mend
somehow
our frayed hands, rejoin
our cracked circles?
May you regain your tribe. May they all be found.
May you live loudly in their love.