Truth and Reconcilliation
As your ancestors
cry out to be heard
through the chaos
that makes up
this world of lost,
busy and greedy minds,
a world too many still cling to
with white knuckles and heavy breath
as if it is the only reality,
my ancestors
bow their head in shame
within me.
I feel the heaviness
of their shoulders
dragging mine down
away from ears
full of the echoed cries of children,
of lost women,
of brave souls
mortally wounded by broken promises
and exhumed from the sandy depths
of someone else's
unconsciousness.
These ancestors within me
cry out for forgiveness
as they see clearly
what they could not see
when they walked around in forms
that felt so righteous
in their taking
of that which was never theirs.
The red, once proudly worn
with national pride,
is replaced with the saffron
worn by those
who have achieved
the sight of truth
few will ever achieve
in this busy world.
Though my form
that carries the sins of my fathers
may never be worthy
to wear such ceremonial dressage,
I do so with the hope
of healing for all.
© Dale-Lyn, July, 2021
Meant to publish this yesterday.
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