Agu

I am old now. My youngest makes sure I stay fed. I am lucky to have such a wonderful family. Lucky my people need me. Lucky the gods have chosen to speak through me.

But I am old now. My body is tired, and our people have been restless lately. The move, the constant move, I don’t want to keep up.

My bones protest as I pack up our home. Again.

But how can I complain? The gods have given me six beautiful children. They speak to me and through them, I help keep our people safe.

But I am tired.

I think my son knows this will be my last move. If he does, he says nothing. What could he say? Without the voice of the gods in me, I would not have lasted this long.

The ground beneath me calls to me. It tells me to rest. The sky above me calls to me. It asks me to give up my body and let my ashes join the clouds.

And I am ready.