She says they came
to her
to read their future.
She read tea leaves.
—
She says she went
to her
when she was cold.
Deep to her breast.
—
They say she held
secrets
her lips sealed.
She did not judge.
—
Stars say she loved
too deeply
more than her
weary soul
could hold.
Marginalia
Catherine is one of the ancestors I found was imprinted onto my natal chart. She apparently gifted me with intuition, symbolic thinking, spiritual downloads and dream insight. She’s not a fanfare, she’s just there at my side, holding my hand.
I never knew Catherine but when she showed up in my chart, I was intrigued to know more. This poem (if you want to call it that) is the fragments of what I discovered about her. And by now, I wasn’t surprised to find those fragments echoed in her natal chart.
My Nana, however, her daughter could read people as easily as the news. I recall her rocking in her chair when something vexed her, when she knew the truth was being withheld. I can’t recall the exact instances, just the subtle changes in her behaviour.
I thought that everyone had that ability.
