The blood that runs throughout the land
United with the Soul,
The youngest generation rose
To fill their empty bowls.
The stone wall and the canon
Met them with a fearful ROAR!
They blew a kiss and whispered Love –
The canon was no more.
The stone wall raised its thorns
As they silently approached –
To them it was a gateway
And blossoming vines encroached.
Illness groping for the veins
That flow into the tide!
The Soul called to the youngest,
And they spread the blessing wide.
The Illness then retreated
And the Powers bide their time –
Plans still moving forward
No apparent why or rhyme.
Impostors are these archons?
I have no doubt they know
The youngest generation,
That their hearts as pure as snow.
Poetry Copyright © 2018 – 2023 by Ena Whiteraven All rights reserved.
Written in honor of all First Nations. Inspired by the opposition to the Dakota Access Pipeline.
Photo: photographer not listed. Appeared on Grassroots Global Justice Alliance .
