In the same womb

Scattered all over

Pieces of ancestors 

Some here, some there

A tear in the eye and a tear 

In the connective tissue 

Gasping for air

Ancestors everywhere 

And nowhere to be found 

The land, they say, is not ours

Not yours 

The land is made of bones 

It’s nobody’s and 

Everyone’s 

Our fabric woven together from 

The womb

The argument of indigenous ownership

Makes no sense 

Four thousand, five, six, ten thousand years

One hundred years

Two thousand years

We were here first

No! You came later!

We returned’

Your god is lesser than ours

No! your god is stupid!

And yours is bad

Yours is an asshole

It’s the same fucking god

And before it was a god it was a goddess

But your god, and your god,

And it’s the same fucking god

Made the goddess go

So no one is left to make love

To make soup

To make peace

And before she was a goddess

She was the land

And the land had her ways 

Most of us – and the us includes

Them

Want to live and let

Live

We’ve proven together that we cannot live

Together 

But we haven’t been able to untangle 

The mess

We are woven together 

Since before we were us and them

The land weeps 

As blood spills

And war kills not only 

Hope

But children 

We know together that the world 

Doesn’t get it

Words thrown around without much

Consideration 

Of how much bigger the picture is 

And how much more complex 

History is

And her story

And the chorus of the herd answers 

Baaaaaaaa

Where are the shepherds?

Where is the mother?

Where are the elders to teach us to

Think, to learn, to consider, to look at more

Pieces

Before we simply repeat 

Someone else’s word because 

It gives us a sense of belonging 

We cry 

Each hiding in our own cave 

Each rotting in our own grave

Passing on the

Primal urge to

Love

We don’t dare to break

The chains of hate

They give us a false sense of

Stability 

Of identity 

But we were woven together in the 

Womb

Those who pump the hate are

Sitting separate from us

Who let them be In charge?

They profit from acts of violence 

They need us to keep on hating

Those who pump the hate are the 

words 

Spread all over your feed

Feeding you misinformation 

Feeding off of your horrified hover

Over these statements 

Or that video

Without knowing the damage

Obscuring the intricate

Relationship between roots and fruit and 

Decay

Between us 

We’re missing out on a love

We could have had fulfilled 

And a life we could have 

Filled

With something other than war

With something more 

Even if it wasn’t love

We’re missing out on siblinghood 

We could have been family 

Outside the womb

That wove us into one another 

We’re missing out on 

The children that didn’t get to grow