The Ancestral Rocking Chair

The rocking chair

sat empty across the kitchen.

First, my dad, in khaki pants and shirt, sat down.

He passed over in 1995,

but is never far from my thoughts.

On this morning he just arrived and 

although I could see no solid form,

his spirit sat in the rocking chair. 

His words drawled t’wards me.

“See. I told you. It’s alright.”

And then he left, replaced by my mother, 

in a green cotton house dress she had sewn.

Although she left this world abruptly in 1971, 
she comes to me often.

Her words echoed and hung suspended.

“Your father’s right.”

And then she was gone, leaving 

the Rocking Chair empty,

waiting for other ancestors to take their place.

“Some people are your relatives but 
others are your ancestors, and you choose 
the ones you want to have as ancestors. 
You create yourself out of those values."

~ Ralph Ellison