Knees on necks

Necks in nooses
Boots on groins
Shots between the eyes
Bodies turned to ash.

Fraudulent, bankrupt voices rob the narrative.
Stolen from their rightful origins
where the ancestral spirits once lay
in peaceful repose,
with an unassailable knowing, that future generations
have been well studied in the wise ways of being.

How are we to repair this maelstrom of hate and theft?
Permitting us to once again weave these sacred stories spoken with love and careful deliberation,
sacrifice and promise.
Wisdom of the ages that will withstand the deepest divide between us.
Unearth the hallowed way
where we lay in wait
to be welcomed back
to be a witness to our atrocities.
To remove the hidden wound of the oppressor we have carried around.

Laying bare our weak bodies and minds.
Laying bare our mistakes in our desire to move forward;
forward to a backward place, of conceit and ruin.

What will it take to hear the voice of the earth
groaning under our feet,
calling us to listen
to the despair we cause
in the name of selfish infatuation.
What will it take to root ourselves.
To be willing to journey where the long arc of justice takes us.
Hope and chaos begin and end in the same place.
If we fail to notice this we are doomed.

During this time when we barely leave the house,
what will we tell our grandchildren we did with this quiet time.
Did we use it wisely?
Did we honor our ancestors?
Did we do justice to ourselves?
Did we hold each other lightly?

Knees on necks
Necks in nooses
Boots on groins
Shots between the eyes
Bodies turned to ash
Blood on our hands
Blood boiling and pulsing in our veins
Righteous outrage
What is it good for?