Ancestor altar "Ancestors, I call to you, ask that you hear my voice. Ancestors, the Uncountable Ones, whos names I both know and do not, who are seen and hidden, whose memories are woven through the fabric of existence. Whose bones lie beneath this land over which you toiled. Ancestors, you god-birthing mothers, flower picking sisters, aunties whose soothing embrace to the bosom brings maternal protection, ladies and temptresses who bent mens' backs and brought them to the