We will dance a circle around our Earth

Earth Dance

by Toni Truesdale

 

In celebration, many folk people,

Still dance in ceremonial thanksgiving, passages;

Spring welcome to the earth for sustaining life.

For traditional cultures still follow

The paths set by ancestors;

 Back to the ways of original instructions,

Brought by intermediaries between the Creator and humans.

Dancers are seen in the first art on stones;

For reverence is shown the rhythm of prayer, ritual and dance

All over the world.

 

Copyright 2013

Tonitruesdale.com

  

I bear witness

I Bear Witness

I bear witness

To the new holocaust.

I mark the passing death; each day, every minute.

I bear witness to the innocents,

Humans of the Americas

I bear witness to

The global grief of the missing ones loved.

So many tears, a miasma of silent suffering.

 

I bear witness

To the indifference of the powerful

The vindictiveness of willful neglect

The turning away, blindly, deafly; so not to see.

And, those that bear the dangerous task of saving some lives from

Refrigerated trucks for corpses awaiting

150,00 burial plots and counting.

 

I bear witness

To the many afraid to look

Into the eyes of the city

Into the tears of the plains…

Those forced to work in poisonous places,

Immediate hunger and homelessness. hopelessness

There are those that refuse see the fear in each protective parent.

 

I bear witness to those demanding human sacrifice, again

For an impotent, greedy false god.

 

I bear witness as do you.

 

 

.

As we search for meaning in this difficult time; the truth emerges painfully

Angel of Truth:

Spirit of Reconciliation

by Toni Truesdale

 

Peace cannot be absolute,

Until the Process is complete.

The courageous steps towards reconciliation are

Full of pain, tears, heartbreak...

 

The anguish needs recognition;

And responsibility accepted,

Before absolution.

For perception of historical grief

Must be believed, by all...

 

Sincere reparations,

May be inexact;

But told with unconditional truth,

To have an amnesty in equality;

And in forgiveness, peace.

 

T. Truesdale copyright 2009

ToniTruesdale.com

 

 

we are only the tinest of fragments of the universe hardly a mote in the eye

Falling into Stars

We are all here in this dreaming moment,

Looking into a boundless night;

That may compel a vertigo

To return into the womb of cosmic creation.

Evolving from the infinite stars

Fragments of motion

Collide with matter to

Spin fragments into motion,

Fused further by random ubiquitous forces;

Continually transforming millennia

Into tentacles of related beings that emerge

Into the ever-evolving universe.

Copyright T. Truesdale 2018

Tonitruesdale.com

For the Mothers...

"I've been in the storm so long,
I've been in the storm so long, children,
I've been in the storm so long,
Oh give me little time to pray."

My son, my flesh

Despised and degraded, sold away

Deprived the love of family.

Whose blood created the wealth of the nation;

Lynched and Defiled.

We hear the cry echoed this time in the streets

 Mama....

-T.Truesdale

The first shall be last and the last shall be first

Historical grief slips secretly generation into generation…

Unseen yet visible emotionality

In sterile familiar poverty;

Pain, sacrifice still poisons unresolved time.

Victims caught in moments of past and present tragedy

That left a legacy of tears, haunting children presently.

Adults respond to medicate away impersonal pain 

Leading to destruction, cycle; again.

From senses understanding incomplete.

And, the land murmurs in despair, as well as in

The very air 

Filters atmosphere, in pathos steeped ...

Spirits all around

Some Native to this land, others brought to serve and slave

Still overlapping the sequence

Beyond dying, outside the living

Imprints of sorrow nestled in the soil

Discerned by the unconscious living mind perceiving

The footprints of historic grief.... 

T.Truesdale

The Mothers

“The Mothers”

by T. Truesdale

“The culture of women

Exists with each prayer

Centered in the hearth

With our daily bread.

The family is sheltered within the home,

Protected with feminine presences,

The Mothers have always brought comfort

Within the loving walls

That hold who is dear.

To nourish with food.

Warm by fire, and

Clothe in our handmade legacy.

Each day is a sacred exercise

In timeless feminine spirituality”.

Truesdale copyright 2009