if i leave this singing place...
i will miss the drums of the flickers… at this time of the morning glory who sing sturdy despite brittle, scorched shrubbery amidst them i too will leave this place as they lessen their grip far sooner than autumn… i linger with low mourning as to why i cannot sing with them because i am fixed numb with bewilderment… complete bafflement way frozen… i cry be-side my drummers of kin… who have called me to restiveness day after day since the time we have lived in this house of fraudulent impression… split-community, no-pride. why oh why…why please why… did it have to happen that i... my own kith and kin were battered with such potent hatred of who we are… we, only different from them? the strength i know now is i will sing again and again with the gold drummers who fly with me... wherever i go... by weaver x (((o))) © 2004
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i wish to acknowledge with gratitude that i live, work + play on the traditional and unceded territory of the Snuneymuxw First Nation...
my blog writings...i'm a creative soul choosing to walk softly on our blessed earth mother's back... more here... Spirit Art Frame Drum Available by weaver…
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