Those who are dead are never gone; they are in the thickening shadow. The dead are not under the earth; they are in the tree that rustles, they are in the wood that groans, they are in the water that sleeps, they are in the hut, they are in the crowd, the dead are not dead. Those who are dead are never gone, They are in the breast of the woman, they are in the child who is wailing and in the firebrand that flames. The dead are not under the earth: they are in the fire that is dying, they are in the grasses that weep, they are in the whimpering rocks, they are in the forest, they are in the house, the dead are not dead. Sonya said, "The book where I found the poem is called Jambalaya, The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisah Teish. After some research I found that the poem is by Birago Diop, a Senegalese poet and storyteller."