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White Hands

let us consider our soul
the internal buzzing of life creating itself

from this eternal cave within our own mortal presence
on this land we call country
let us listen
to the ancestors
who’s hands reach out even now
to feed us
as we reach back with their blood
on our own hands

in their hands they hold the beads, the colored corn
the old seeds, the chains, the cuffs, the cotton, the teeth
the feathers, the colors, the music, the drum beats
the drum beats, essential
as our own hearts beating
let us make no mistake
they have saved us
even as we kill, mame, and imprison their children’s children
even as we blame, punish, and steal from those who continue to hold us up
those who shine from the cages of lifelong trauma
the one true flame of resilience
from which the soul burns

we sing their songs, we eat their food
even as we displace
our own fear, self hatred, utter flawedness
onto their most precious lives
and ask them to stay quiet
to save us from ourselves

from our selves
let us lay down self protection
and pick up our own burdens
we give back freedom
we give back protection
we give back joy
we give back money
a home a job
make the reparations happen
return power to true leaders
release the prisoners
release ourselves from the illusion there is another way

to mend the sacred web
to save the soul of america