Every once in awhile
I find a single strand of hair
that is kinky and jet black
in my long brown hair
I stare at it in wonder
at who you were
were you of Africa
or of gypsy strain?
Running around
in the blood of my name?
And sometimes I spy
a very light hair
thinking at first
the signs of old age
with closer inspection
I discover it blond…
Are you the flemish
the jewish or spanish
that I know to be running around
in the currents of my blood?
I smile at the past
hidden in the mysteries
of who I am
There is a trace of something
from the world over…
Do I have your eyes?
Your smile? Your nose?
A gesture kept immortal
Since the seed was first planted?
Of this,
I am sure
In every part of my being.
We cross paths with each other
in every single smile I meet.
You are my Eve
You have planted the first seed
nurtured and raised every generation.
you´re alive, immortal
through me, my children
for they are all yours.
That the beauty comes from within
the innermost part of my being.
Sometimes, I get a sensation
an emotion of being home
Where I´ve never been before
a whispered thank you
from the past
for bringing you back
to where your story started.
And I am left bewildered
with what that story was
hidden in the folds
of the mystery of my blood.
To honor my every mother
and my every father
being kind to my brothers
and sisters throughout the world.
I honor you Eve, with my life
each and every single one.
You, immortal, since the beginning.
I unravel my story
and the longer the string
the less there is left to tell
Retracing that strand
of a single jet black hair
Going back to the beginning
into one tiny knot
of that first tentative seed
the dream that was planted,
nurtured throughout the centuries.
Hundreds of strands of hair
maintaining connections
to the faces that disappear
into the folds of my skin
A gradual unveiling of history
opens up before my eyes
And in revolving circles
I find variety in repetition
that to go forward
you have to go back
to where you began.
And what humans forget
the genes will forever remember
We are one, We are immortal
the past, the present, the future
is in the mystery of every child´s smile…
– by Isabel Gallagher
