The fall of 2011 was a busy and rather difficult time for me. I was 8 months pregnant starting my final year of college. I was preparing to place my baby for adoption while keeping a busy class schedule and Over a decade ago a college friend, made a facebook post that said,

I found it beautiful and inspiring. I few weeks later I was asked to do a group ritual partly so a journalism student could come watch for a project. I asked them if they would write a meditation or invocation based of that post or if they minded if I used it as the basis for one. This is what they wrote.

The Ancestors Walk

by M. White

The ancestors are walking tonight, 
hand in hand with the old gods. 
There, are the tremors of their feet across the dusty earth. 
The ground beats like that of a buckskin drum. 
You place your head against the earth and listen to the rhythm of the world. 
It envelops you, and pulls you into its heart. 
With every beat. 
You sink. 
Deeper. 
And deeper. 
And deeper. 
Into. 
The cradle. 
Of the planet’s arms. 
You lie within the beating heart of the earth.  

The heart leads to many veins, 
many arteries, 
many roots stretching across your haven. 
They pulse with life in time to the beat as they draw in and out infinite amounts of energy. 
The ancestors walk across the planet with the gods, 
and these ancient veins ripple in the darkness at their crossing. 
You drink from the ground’s blood,
 the heart’s life, 
the root’s water.

An airstream rolls across your face, like thunder. 
It carries the scent of the surface and of the wild things that live there,
 of musk and flowers and life. 
It swells with the pulse,
 pushing blood, 
energy, 
water
 in and out. 
The ancestors walk with the gods across the surface, 
and you can feel the winds of their passing. 
You inhale deeply, 
savoring the breath of every living thing.

The darkness lightens with every pulse of energy. 
Pressure is building. 
There is a spark, 
a flash, 
and the world around you is encased in fire
 but it does not burn. 
In the flames, 
you can see the ancestors hold hands with the gods in an ancient dance. 
The past dances to the drums in anticipation. 
The dead dance
 to clear the path so the new can join;
the dead dance
 because their descendants cannot yet;
 the dead dance. 
You try to join in
 but the steps are wrong
 and the ancestors smile in knowing. 
You try to speak but the fire fills your mouth
 and heat enters your belly. 

The ancestors walked with the gods.
 The elements walked with you. 
The ancestors danced with the gods. 
The elements danced with you. 
The ancestors are here. 
The elements are here. 
The gods are watching.
 Let us begin.

Easy Reading Version

The Ancestors Walk

The ancestors are walking tonight, hand in hand with the old gods. There, are the tremors of their feet across the dusty earth. The ground beats like that of a buckskin drum. You place your head against the earth and listen to the rhythm of the world. It envelops you, and pulls you into its heart. With every beat. You sink. Deeper. And deeper. And deeper. Into. The cradle. Of the planet’s. Arms.  You lie within the beating heart of the earth.  

The heart leads to many veins, many arteries, many roots stretching across your haven. They pulse with life in time to the beat as they draw in and out infinite amounts of energy. The ancestors walk across the planet with the gods, and these ancient veins ripple in the darkness at their crossing. You drink from the ground’s blood, the heart’s life, the root’s water.

An airstream rolls across your face, like thunder. It carries the scent of the surface and of the wild things that live there, of musk and flowers and life. It swells with the pulse, pushing blood, energy, water in and out. The ancestors walk with the gods across the surface, and you can feel the winds of their passing. You inhale deeply, savoring the breath of every living thing.

The darkness lightens with every pulse of energy. Pressure is building. There is a spark, a flash, and the world around you is encased in fire but it does not burn. In the flames, you can see the ancestors hold hands with the gods in an ancient dance. The past dances to the drums in anticipation. The dead dance to clear the path so the new can join; the dead dance because their descendants cannot yet; the dead dance. You try to join in but the steps are wrong and the ancestors smile in knowing. You try to speak but the fire fills your mouth and heat enters your belly. 

The ancestors walked with the gods. The elements walked with you. The ancestors danced with the gods. The elements danced with you. The ancestors are here. The elements are here. The gods are watching. Let’s begin.