Mother

Mother said to her children:
Scratch my skin with your nails,
But leave me time to heal.
Tire me with your needs,
But let me rest and recover.
Soil me, if you will,
But I must be able to clean myself.
Use me: I am yours,
And they did.

A white man came in a ship, with a gun,
He shredded her skin with razors,
And rubbed her with chemical salts.
He drowned her with waste,
And raped her tirelessly day, after day, after day.
He shat upon her face,
And suffocated her totally in excrement.

But still she lives!

The Fire burns...

When we are young,
Learning as a child learns,
Reaching for the flickering flame,
We learn that fire burns.

Worst enemy and most welcome friend,
Destroyer and creator at different turns,
Used to build or to defend,
The power of fire burns.

Placated and protected,
Power still writhes and churns,
So a person is entrusted,
With the fire that burns.

Caring for an ancient trust,
Living through all the trials that earns,
When all the machines are turned to rust,
The sacred fire still burns.

Although dowsed by the hypocrites,
Managers and ministers will learn,
That they are irresponsible idiots,
And in our hearts the fire will burn...