Dear Ancestor...

Your tombstone stands among the rest;
  Neglected and alone.
  The name and dates are chiseled out
  On polished, marbled stone.

  It reaches out to all who care
  It is too late to mourn.
  You did not know that I exist
  You died and I was born.

  Yet each of us are cells of you
  In flesh, in blood, in bone.
  Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
  Entirely not our own.

  Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
  One hundred years ago
  Spreads out among the ones you left
  Who would have loved you so.

  I wonder as you lived and loved,
  I wonder if you knew
  That someday I would find this spot,
  And come to visit you.

-Author Unknown