my heart is with the land

my heart is with the land,
with the People there,
and always will be.
it is a home far away
but always home.
whatever is done
to the People
to their land
touches me deeply
many times wanting
to lash out at those
who do this.
it awakens
something dark
deep down inside,
something frightening,
against my nature,
so the words flow
sometimes in anger
other times in pain
as well as with tears.
my spirit is with the land.

my heart is with the land
but what is happening?
things that shouldn't be
yet there is silence
from the inside
unnoticed by those
on the outside
too many wrapped up
in their own little lives.
one day they will look,
see what is around them,
realize their cocoons.
can not shield them
from these things disturbing.
it is the children
most affected,
those who will be left
to right the wrongs
if there is still time.
it is the innocents who suffer.
my spirit is with the land.

my spirit is with the People,
while another watches
how it devastates me,
she who worries
how far this destruction
can reach out to others,
for surely it goes further.
I watch my own child,
now a young adult,
wracked with mood changes,
anger arising from unknown sources,
anger that clouds the present,
an anger so fierce
that no words can be spoken,
only a vacant stare,
eyes unblinking.
everything still
like something dead,
a childhood destroyed,
turned inward.
my heart is with my child.

my spirit is with the land
watching the true trespassers,
not the People, not the puppets,
but those folks in DC
using these puppets
to control the People
with harassment,
threatened eviction,
constant surveillance,
stealing the balance,
obliterating the peace
with eyes on the treasures
deep in Mother Earth,
those warmongers in DC
bent on destruction,
playing their war games,
their selfish actions
meant to preserve
their political lives,
destroying the future.
my heart is with the children.

my heart and spirit are
the land, the People, the children,
watching this deep darkness
envelope too many, dragging them
down into the depths of despair,
while these boys play with our lives
others who preceded them
responsible for today.
it is in the history
in afghanistan,
in the persian gulf,
actions completed
without thinking
now returning
as the nightmare
all face today,
one foretold long ago,
but they never listened,
are still refusing to now,
but it is for our children
that this MADNESS must STOP.



the wolf is my messenger

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"We will be known by the tracks
we leave behind."
Dakota Proverb


copyright © 9 September 2002, by louve14
revised 28 November 2004