Storyteller, help me to remember.
Ancient stories have been told many times and in so many ways since the dawn of time. I can’t remember them because no one ever told them to me. Even stories told as song have not found their way to my ears.
Who was supposed to tell me, where is the strength to know and tell these stories? Has the teller forgotten how wanted they are?
I am a runner, running to grasp the baton. When I pick up momentum and pass by each marker, obvious and without mystery, the only flame at the ready is held by a ghost. How lucky we are that these ancestors have decided to be the keepers of story, though they are tricky to hear.
Help me dear Storyteller to remember.