May 15, 2022
Continued from I Thought to Write of Bloodshed and War…
Tell of the many hundred years
My grandparents stood tall in the forests
On the mountain sides breathing life for all and
Giving their lives—so that I could live.
Their stories I hold close in the treasure chest of my heart. Precious memories must be remembered and told often in times of war.”
“Go on.” said the pen, “Tell us more.”
Where to begin?
My ancestors’ end is my beginning so here will I start:
…and at each turn where once upon a time monsters stood guard—now only dust and flowers remained.
The end.
Thank you for stopping by to say hello!
With love and gratitude,
©️NZain 💚
Growing Up... 
This is extremely powerful – and also so full of confidence and hope. i love the feeling of being grounded and, at the same time, having the baton passed onto the next generation to write their own story. You are a very gifted writer Nina. (Did you take the photo? It is beautiful, and perfect or this post).
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Hi Ann thank you! Generational trauma…what do we want to bring forward while still honoring the past? And yes—I did take the photo. This morning. From my location facing in your direction. 🙂
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Love your words and that picture…my words are too feeble to even try to describe so I will simply say thank you my friend for sharing. Much love to you! 🌺🌼🌷🌸🌻☀️🙏🏻🤗💗
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Oh Charlotte! You know I always love your words and insights and how much you add to these stories! Never feeble!!! Please share. Much love to you too!
🌸💙🌹💚🤗😘🦋🙏🏻
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Nina, your creativity is in full collaboration with the rest of your story. A torch is passed from one generation to another. Let’s pray for their future.
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