Whispers

I hear the whispers of my ancestors; what are they saying? This continuous beat of memories not known, hammering to be let out of my head.

The far away rumble of noise, disquieting in its persistent clang, as if a battle is being staged for my benefit, a battle of words and ideas.

Hear me! Hear me! it says, I have much to say.

Listen! Listen! there is much to learn of your past.