Haiku My Heart ~ The Whispers

 Whispers into Palo Santo incense

Whispers in the wind,
babkas, help us remember
how to heal our world

  This recent article from Atlas Obscura
about the dying tradition of the Belarusian Whisper Healers

touched me to the core of my being.

For thousands of years,
both men and women have been initiated into this tradition.
Until now, they have survived religious persecution, pestilence,
and changing regimes of power and war.
With urbanization and the technological disconnect that we are all experiencing
these wise elders are now disappearing from this earth.
This article is about the few who are left.
The Babkas.
Which is Belarusian for grandmother.

Babka Maria says this at the end of the article:
“Older people who know the words [are] already dying and young people don’t want to learn, they don’t believe in it. But the evil in the world does not become less .... Old people and children come every day to me, but I don’t know who will whisper after my death.”

I will Grandmother.

Will you whisper with me?

  For more Friday haiku my heart
please visit Rebecca and other poets
at recuerda mi corazon