Inquirienda
(To All Our Relations)

The eyes of generations look out through the
dimming windows of time. Little silver bells
tinkle as we think of them, those we think we
know and those unattainably real.

What lessons have they left for us? Which ones
reside in our silent cores, resting or acting?

How many found their callings? Was Karel, the
huntsman, enchanted by his forest and the stags
beyond? Was Antonín, the master joiner, taken in
by some satin veneer or a plank perfectly planed?
Were their tasks meant to be or only routes to
survival?

Did they share the wherewithal needed to find
our rightful ways through this world, if only we
would know those whose blood now courses
through our veins?