Tag: aboriginal
What a couple of weeks…
I do not write about work very often. Preferring it is our business, so to speak. But at these times, as a part of my own route to healing, this I need do. Mortality: “the state of being subject to death” How often I’ve heard: “I’ll be living forever.” Denial, … Continue Reading What a couple of weeks…
A Visit With the Dying
a family messaged come, witness a Nation’s elder prepares for ancestor’s fields soon, I hope at liberty finds her soul derailing pain racking her body in grief happy her flight will be © 2014 by DC Lessoway
Torn from Their True Life
their profound blood born in the pristine lands of Turtle Island were then, by invading men torn from their true life in genocidal assimilation yet look to the sunrise how fragmented hearts, spirits, minds bring themselves up drum, feather in hand sing proudly for the distressed lands for their children’s … Continue Reading Torn from Their True Life
Canada Day 2013
my dear Canada, our home on native land how true our hearts are to this beautiful north we in the west, look to the east in worry as we graded, stand, for what is gloriously free a toe dipped in Cape Spear, or Tofino from tundra’d glory of Cape Columbia to … Continue Reading Canada Day 2013
Aboriginal Day
first a human being I befragile this flesh and boneof thought, intention, exertionsustenance and atmospheredriving mechanisms of composite chemicals and uproar then Metis coalesces my bloodupon my shoulder, since birtha braided sash of red, blue, white, green and blackfinally finds the sun, my hearthidden, too too long finally a citizen … Continue Reading Aboriginal Day
True Patriot Love
our home on native lands from The Rock to Haida Gwaii a true, alluring possessing realm to tread the lands one cannot forego bearing tempestuous witness steadfast mountains ethereal Laurentian forests the expansive firmament above endless prairies all magnificence exceeding bounds of human wits beneath its soils assets abound the dirty … Continue Reading True Patriot Love
My Kind, true Canada, I miss you dearly
Canada has lost direction purpose and meaning. How at one time we stood upon the world’s stage, doing good for many. But now, how we’ve stepped away into shadows of war, greed, indifference. As the people, wade through misinformation, from a government bound to deeds of malfeasance. Widening the gap between … Continue Reading My Kind, true Canada, I miss you dearly
Unvarnished Spirituality
expounded by words is not where the spirit has voice ensconced in an edifice is not where the spirit dwells enmeshed in a group or organization is not where the spirit finds leadership exhibited by ritual is not where the spirit parades exclusive to the individual is where the spirit … Continue Reading Unvarnished Spirituality
In Changing Countries Misgoverned
change must arise from injustice change must waken the multitudes change must be wanted, coveted change must be for greater good change must challenge status quo change must, at first, instability create change must, and will, polarize as long as noble aims prevail as long as true, the course keeps … Continue Reading In Changing Countries Misgoverned
What Protects the Seat of the Soul
Call of the Drums
As a child I would set several boxes around me, put on some music, and with wooden spoons I’d beat the hell out of the boxes until drenched in sweat and the boxes shredded. Funny, I would later pick up a guitar and learn to play, never taking up the drums. … Continue Reading Call of the Drums
Shed
in tears because the innocent have to die in this country, theirs, and others in tears because many put gifts above their own happiness their own needs in tears because politicians, like children bicker, squabble, then smiling stand on the wreckage of a once beautiful country In tears because Aboriginal … Continue Reading Shed
What has changed?
My First Big Interview
The other day Sunny Dhillon from the Globe and Mail interviewed me. In the paper it made the front page of the BC section! Click the link the read the article: “Life in the shadow of a psychiatric hospital can breed fear that spans generations”. It was my first interview … Continue Reading My First Big Interview
A Year’s Step from the Darkness
Metamorphose
In the hours of darkness I am alone, amidst my fragrant cedar curls in a hushed refuge one half my length in width, one and a quarter in length, one half tall. Grimy, salted, worn utensils scattered around me. In this silence my only companions are up in the deepest … Continue Reading Metamorphose
