greed rewards the ruling class that starves us to the bone
and cities rise from concrete lies, as earth protectors moan.
when tyrants use prosperity to kill our sacred songs,
a nation’s best are buried ‘neath a mountain built of wrongs.
huddled there below the rubble, dust has sealed our cave.
rescue dogs scent stagnant breeze for champions to save.
before you is your slice of life, a sweetness you forgot,
while dying on your idle tongue exotic textures rot.
surrender is an easy path seen from your cozy crypt,
yet railing up against the fates insures that scales are tipped.
rise from the place we supplicate before the sands run out.
stand soundly on our sturdy legs, our backs unbent and stout.
be roots that lay in earth’s embrace sown from our sacred grains
and water them with coursing streams that are our Mother’s veins.
© 2017 Paula Yoder