New Journey

As he stepped into the mist
Wrapped in the warmth of the spirit blanket
That was given him for his journey,
He stopped and took a loving look
At those he would now cherish and protect
From a new place.
They felt him with them
And he smiled that they knew.

The women silenced the crowd
With a soft drum that spoke to their hearts.
Weaving their magical tapestry,
They purified and raised all who were there.
Intoxicating smudge reached out to them all,
Sent on its way by the feathers of the messenger.

She spoke softly, but from her soul,
And they all listened to the layers of her words.
Some were not conscious of the message,
But they heard it in their hearts.

She sang to bring rhythm to his step,
So his journey would be filled with song.
And her notes laced together each one that they touched.
For that moment they all were joined,
Each sending a piece of himself
With him on the trail.

Her notes formed a blanket,
Soft, strong, gentle,
Around the two he loved the most.
And the notes trailed from the blanket
To his hand for him to hold forever.
And a feather of the messenger
Appeared in each of their hands...
A reminder that the spirit world is real.

It was there for all to see...
That which is joined by undying love
Is always present, strong, and alive.
And for those who can see,
They are never left behind.

~  Carol Dixon

State of the Union

Pursuit of personal happiness that closes eyes to others' pain,
The gold that sits on the pedestal
Sparkles brighter than the gold of the heart.

Their heroes are worshiped and idolized,
Empty shells that they are...
The real heroes overlooked, as they toil in the streets,
Trying in desperation to reunite the inhabitants of the Earth
With the spirit of the One.

Slight of hand of those in control,
Who blind their followers to glaring truths
And inflate their sense of invulnerability
And make them feel apart and above the rest
And make them blame each other for fabricated wrongs
And give them distractions of fun and fear
And give them illusions of personal strength,
Found in acts, unkind and mindless,
While they delude themselves with drunken power,
Empty shells that they are.

And under it all the Earth sighs and groans
And looks for signs of hope and thought,
And looks for times of caring,
And looks for those who understand,
And waits for the rest to self-destruct,

Empty shells that they are.

~  Carol Dixon

Killing Ignorance

when was she
a little girl?!..
when was she
an innocent?!...
to the prejudice 
heaped upon her 
at birth

when did she
begin learning
about being of a 
red earthen
first nation?!..
when she began
to speak....
where is she

serving a life sentence
at fourteen yrs. of age
for killing her 
o^...slave trade
on the
" great " lakes

what did that fool
on the hill say?!...
mayke merrikka grate?!!...
muneshine bozho
out of balance
playing bone cards
for deah/debt prizes

plasti dip applied
no sense!
of the sunrise
that dies not
no rhthyms 
to make for
long gevity

where is She
a fourteen yr olde
lakota girl
by the justice of privilege SHE now?!...

singing her songs
ancient ageless

the observation
that her spirit
like smoke
is beginning to 
rise again
from the 
sodden wash
of the rain...

ni-o^... sho`-dse
muscle shoals
riverr weakness
tributaries that dump
faire and foul
into  the/
" great " lakes
blood waters

Cries of the missing
shadow  marks
upon the metl hulls
of ships
in the midst....
of " commerce "

YOU!...rank and foul
of pc tech titles!!...
for ancient trades
of degradation!...
call it
what it is!... 
it is NOT
human trafficking!...
it is slavery!..
you low borne bastards!

alive and well!!...
northern states 
native/ female/
slave trade!...geneder  genocide!
what age range
is most often

Ni`-the!...forced extinctions
of annihilation?!..
girls to women 
of?!...child bearing yrs!!
O6 population control!..
future genertions
an alter ego for a slogan..
no child left  behind yea?!..
gender genocide

to  peace?!
be/at peace?!
KEEP/the peace?!..
get...over it?!...

silence is a form
of suicide
(i live/ i write/ i fight)
I live! I write! I fight!..

for red earth
for my peoples
as a voice
as a  flame
of rage

for my/
red earthen 
loved ones 

in case 
it wasn't clear
this is happening NOW
on OUR
"great " lakes!

and for all the times
since inception
of  the "man camps'
of industry
NOW...not ancient '
hiz tory...

I am  
ghost road borne
and I grieve for 
my sisters
as I walk...
always on my way home
where is she?!...

the wars continue


~  SoldierBlue