Belief can be a bridge you make
You need not try to cross another’s
But we must get over this lake
To help us heal Our Mother
She gives us love and wisdom
Food, medicine and water
We must bend our ear to listen
For her heart grows larger
But is tired, battered by hate
We’ve fought for much too long
Trying so hard to avoid our fate
To join our foreign family among the stars
Who hides and nudges us to rise
To acknowledge and heal our scars
To see through and expose our lies
Only then will we find restoration
That deep and intense freedom we forgot
To know ourselves in the constellations
And reap the rewards our struggle has bought
Clay The Scribe 