Untitled

I stand on a road that my ancestors paved.
With all the sorrow blood sweat and tears
That it took to get us here.
Immigrants on a land that was
their home for generations before
Some man drew an invisible line
deciding this was his.
Mother Earth is no ones,
she cannot be owned, possessed or claimed.
She cannot be bought, sold or traded.
The mistake made is these men
think they can live on her
but she's no ones door step
she can only be lived with.
Like a beautiful harmonious song
between the birds and trees.

Who remembers the story...
The standing people do...
grandmother moon, the buffalo
My ancestors paved the way
decisions not always good,

suffering from generational trauma,
diseases brought on by wounds
inflicted by strangers
passed down womb to womb
mother to child
bound only by the strength
to keep going
I come from a long line of warrior
women
who have held up a falling world
mended broken hearts
fed empty bellies
found lost souls
never giving up always pressing
forward.
My ancestors dance...
My ancestors sing...
I can hear them
Never letting me forget who I am,
where I came from and where I'm going.