My Mother's Grave

There amongst the fallen trees and rivers of black.

Voices and laughter can be heard across the trees,

the autumn leaves soak up my mother's blood.

 

Stars once shimmered and danced across the skies,

now only darkness and ashes greet the morning sun.

As the winter snow soaks up my mother's blood.

 

Her children once free,

Loving, sharing, believing, hoping, and dreaming. 

Now the summer sun dries my mother's blood.

 

Many Nations before this Nation,

Sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, grand mothers, grand fathers.

All of whom loved and cherished. 

Millions perish, manifest your destiny.

Build your houses upon the many unknown graves.

Once the home of many, 

for the blood they shed, they gave.

 

I pray,

Spring showers water the souls of the many still left.

For in everything there is a cycle of birth, life and death.

We've died many times and now we seek to be born once again.

Bring the rain, 

May you bring rest for our weary hearts,

For we will rise triumphantly from our Mother's grave, with grace.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

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