a series of reflections, thoughts, poems.
Since the dawn of time, people have shared song, dance, and word. May we share word and thought across the land and through the wind.
ANCESTRAL GROUND
Whenever it's black and brown bodies on the ground
It doesn't matter
Because that's where you think we belong
Beneath you
With silent mouths
And closed eyes
Teeth grinding on the dirt
You can push us down into the ground
But at least the Land would hold us more gently
Than the weight of your gnarled hands
On this brown body
You can push us into the ground
But the land will fill our mouths
Decompose us
Regrow us into our truth
Keep our stories across the Land between thorn and thicket
In the Land is where our bodies are formed
And we shall rise again and again
In the mountains that you mine
In the water you part with borders
In the soil you tear open for oil
In the skies you fill with smoke
You force us to the ground in hopes of burying us in our graves
But you forget our ancestors
Are the cacti that grow in between all these cracked lands
BROWN RIVER
Let our bodies drown in el Rio Bravo
Yes, let our brown bodies drown
So that when their bodies enter el Rio Bravo,
Their ears will be muffled by our screams –
By the mother whose hand could not reach out far enough
By the man whose last thought was to repent
By the child who forgot their grandfather's name
Let our brown bodies drown in el Rio Bravo
So that when their spirits try to find a place to rest in our waters,
Their spirits will be pulled by our decaying hands
Rotting flesh on rotting spirits
Let our brown bodies drown in el Rio Bravo
So that when their bodies go down to the river to swim
They'll find out why it's called el Rio Bravo
Not only because of the currents that drive the river,
But because of our dead, brown bodies they have drowned
Our spirits are powerful and angry
So let our bodies drown el Rio Bravo
Above all, let our bodies rest in el Rio Bravo while we are alive