Tradition’s Ripples

A figure stands
at the edge of the serene pond of existence,
with a smooth round cornerstone clasped in hand.

One chosen family,
is in this image you’ll understand,
the smooth round cornerstone.

Picked up in promise,
spoken to with purpose,
released with the mission of reconciliation.

The hand that gripped this
smooth round cornerstone,
saw only it and hoped,
and grasped,
and cast it into the known, but not written future.

An arc is traced,
through the air of history,
as promise, as purpose, as perfection
are sought, grasped, and forgotten.

The cornerstone pounces
the water below, rising
each pounce a new generation
of repeating circular echoes.

A no one becomes the father,
his son continues the tradition so cherished.
Throughout and within that body
of living water holding the earth.

The echoes of rippling decisions
cutting through and redirecting all others
within that greater body
of serene living water.

From the first descent,
to the last,
the rippling circles speak
of generational blessings defended,
and common shared struggles,
all illuminated by truth.

The rippling spreads
wider and wider,
until the crests number the descendants and stars,
and a calm coalescing
lays the water and choices
into their eternal promised rest.