Thirty poems in thirty days: DAY 23


There is blood on this land

On this land where
once a people stood noble and free
with a will forged in the fire of unity
and the overarching desire for liberty

with sad gaze this warrior surveys the horizon
to hold his baby daughter, gaze in her eyes and
relay the tale of how this nation's graces were taken and left to die when
gold became the only colour desired by strange men

Remember the days when this land teemed with birds and beasts
swimming under the seas and soaring on the breeze wild and free
remember the days when we used to run through the trees
picking berries and sowing seeds while drinking the sweet dewdrops from green leaves
are memories that I hold so dear
the forest cries
and these
are memories that will forever be here
the wind sighs
and these
are memories that will always bring us back
the warrior decides
staking his spear in the ground to claim it back for what nature only wishes for

I remember the days when this was a great nation
now stripped bare by the greedy tree stumps of deforestation
leaving earth's mother to dry her tears on wheat fields in deep contemplation
for the swallow will sing once more in its spring inhalation
and the nightmares turned dreams will achieve true manifestation
in the hopes and desires brought on by the Divine's holy creation
Hear it
this song that will pass through abandoned bison runs for generations
it is the battle cry, the funeral dirge, and the lovers' lament
for the skeleton of an always defiant, never defeated
warriors' nation.

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