SuziCate's Musings

Erasing the Line

A chalk line is drawn

across ragged asphalt.

Whose side are you on

shouts the schoolyard bully.

As one finger points out

three fingers point back.

We are all to blame,

but none will confess.

Words, words, words,

written, shouted, unspoken, accused,

do little to heal.

Our words, underground currents

of water, control the rise and fall

of tides that were and will be.

But those fingers who point;

Oh how they hold the power,

power to heal, to edify, to unify.

Tears do not soothe

the question of the schoolyard bully

as it taunts my soul.

I dig to the deepest of my native recesses

to the ancestral wisdom beneath

thrown stones and petrified sticks.

The ancient fires slowly burn

 from my toes to my heart.

 The answer quietly quivers

in my throat…Humanity stands upright

as it hits the air, hand extended.

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