they raised their axes towards the sky
they slashed their weapons through the air
and struck my Mother between her eyes
the wood splintering and leaking blood
the wet red of my Mother’s insides
her leaves disintegrating into ash
our choking lungs not finding air
the soil beneath our tongues is bitter
they have uprooted our Mother from time
slashed and burnt her branches of shelter
our indigenous histories echo loud in pain
mourning song for wisdom of the womb
they slashed their weapons through the air
and struck my Mother between her eyes
the wood splintering and leaking blood
the wet red of my Mother’s insides
her leaves disintegrating into ash
our choking lungs not finding air
the soil beneath our tongues is bitter
they have uprooted our Mother from time
slashed and burnt her branches of shelter
our indigenous histories echo loud in pain
mourning song for wisdom of the womb