#reawakening
I used to think that this storm would last forever
That the grey skies would haunt me day and night
But ever since that fateful day we met
After the incessant rain, a sprout is sure to bloom.
© Johnre Gabo, 2025
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 4:06 PM UTC
The institutionalized Racism in America and inequality
is not something by chance.
When there can be persecution for
Something as Spiritual Dance.
There is a bit of unspoken truth,
one that I don't expect you to understand.
There's all evidence, there's all proof.
But no mater the devastation, we stand.
Let me take you back to a time,
to a land where proud Nations stood.
The loss of our land,
Culture is nothing short of a crime.
Our Grief and our passion is often... Misunderstood.
Walking on a trail of broken treaties
our feet bled and our hearts cried.
As they march on indifferently
while our Women and Children died.
We break away from the systems
that we're mean to divide,
reawaken the truth we all keep inside.
But no matter the destruction and devastation,
from the ashes, like a Phoenix we rise.
So my friend, regardless of the poverty within the reservation
It still will not silence our Strong Warrior's cries.
- S. Busick, R. Kayton, B. Powell, E. Sibley, 119
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
back to the days of dandelion dreaming
tasting the sweetness at the center
and squeezing the sap from the stems
onto our dirt dusted hands
frantic finger-painting on the cement dance floor that we bloomed from
back to the sage-dressed lake bed
she laughs
and boasts silently to the sky of her emerald depths
i laugh
and boast ineloquently to the bottle's neck of my mermadic swimming
always got my head beneath the surface
but this isn't suffocation
no
just transformation
i am on the rise
back to the nights of meteor showers at the top of the world
from the hood of my car
sharing candy bars and over-ripe secrets
it's the browning fruit that tastes the sweetest
so freedom must be the color of garden soil
or maybe just the same shade as your eyes
back to the laughter
erupting from our child-like bellies
like hot water
from granite springs themselves
remember?
back to the tents
and firepits
and unmapped road trips with no end in sight
back to the chapter
with the "happily-ever-after"
and the monsters under the bed packing up for a holiday in spain
back to the light
that's how i'll survive
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC