Sheila Williams ~ Singing Cloud
Seeking always a safe place for resting, knowing we must be forever running, no time for prayers, for the cleansing that is so needed; no ceremony that will save us.
The very land is teeming with a strange people, hands it seem that are reaching, every face turned against us, filled with a hatred that holds no human caring.
Shock enfolds the children, Mother Earth herself is crying, her caretakers are dying, in the path of progress, not understanding the treacherous natures.
Now comes the hiding, teaching the young to keep quiet, learning a foreign tongue to save them; becoming something we were never meant to be means lying.
All hope has died inside us, as we watched the slaughter, these are troubles we cannot wash away in the waters, how will our grandchildren know us; how will they feel about us?
Will they call us cowards, will they feel lost and angry, fractured and frightened, will they be pushed aside and forgotten, left to wonder who they are, and why we forgot them?
How can we keep fighting, how can we keep our connection to our ancestors, as we leave our hearts behind us, as we become ghosts in our own country?
From this day forward we begin our journey, leave behind our identity, become something other, try to survive into the future, keeping forever the truth a secret from them.
Tonight we stay hidden, cold, tired, and hungry, running from the danger: the hatred that has boiled over, hushing the babies as they whimper, not understanding.
One day, the Elders tell us, things will be better, one day the truth will be known, one day we will be seen as human, and on that day our hearts will rejoice.
Today Creator guide us, keep safe our People a little longer, help us to survive, to keep enough of the truth alive, do not let our kin turn their backs on our children.
Smile children, the day is here, do not hate your ancestors for what they did, they left clues for you to find, but their sacrifice you need to understand was great.
They ran, they hid, they changed their names and they became as best they could the others, it is I know frustrating, trying to piece together who you are, find your heritage that was scattered.
Remember when your own kind, now turn their backs or deny, it is their own throats they cut, this thing of quantum they hold, inside your heart knows, your ancestors gave their all.
Life for them was so hard; being something they were not, leaving behind all they knew, to assure for you a future in this land, there is my kin no greater love than they showed!
©Copyright December 16, 2007 by Sheila Williams ~ Singing Cloud