In a recent dream
I saw a Mississippi Mound
In the 1960's
Near where I lived
When I was young
The Mississippi Delta
A dusty, dry, grassy hill with arrowheads
Waiting to be discovered
A Deep South United States pyramid
Holding Native American dead bodies
Perhaps buried with pets and weapons
An earthen storage space
Who built this mound of
Mother Earth and why?
Seems some mounds were flat-topped stages
Elevated ceremonial platforms for rituals
Huge earthen, sacred geometric shapes
Some designed to look like animals, snakes, birds
Tombs for bones of important people
Some temples, open plazas
At some point
Mound-building stopped
My dream shifted
Trolls and faeries approached
Telling me: 'You don’t belong here'
I am attracted to dark, wet
Forests with sprites, flying
Spirits and curious elves
Bouncing from one branch to another
Creating a cauldron, mixing magick
Our white ancestors stole so much property
From indigenous people, moving and wiping out
Native Americans
These European white people
Pioneered their greed, ravaging
Human beings, women and children
Stealing and killing, pushing them westward
Jolting genocide
Looking back at one past life, my
Indian Princess Warrior Woman
Strong, bold, solid and protective
She would have killed some of
My white ancestors
(Not one for lying down and being cowardly)
She and I would have tried to destroy these men
Who tried to rape us (and our children)
Who set fire to our tepees
Who told us we were animals and scum
We, too, shot arrows through their hearts
We, too, took our hatchets
Slicing their scalps, claiming corpses
Dragging them behind our fast horses
Throwing them into a pile of
The dead, murderers, savages
Who are the perpetrators and
Who belongs to the Beloved community?
I have played both parts
And lots of roles in between
Lots of blood on my hands
Lots of love in these hands, too
No comments:
Post a Comment