juxtaposition #poetry

the juxtaposition
of a privileged white male
cranking his celtic music
and opening his car doors
in response to my drumming
on the same spot I’ve drummed for years
in prayers and in ceremony
for my people
for our world
including people like him
and how his colonial mind
just couldn’t seem to grasp
it wasn’t a competition
and after a half an hour
him backing up his car way back
to have a real good look
before leaving me
in a cloud of his pot smoke
and the drumming continued
and the winds picked up
and spoke to me
the sky opened
and I received validation
my prayers were heard
with a soothing hug
like a gentle rain
on a parched desert


drummed at the water #micropoetry


I drummed at the water

among watching trees

geese honking

crisp cold air

calling on the ancestors

giving thanks

praying for our world

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