Thanksgiving Day

The history of injustices,

The endless reign of terror

That is the march of wealth

Sought by every Nation,

Is a cause for celebration. 

Let us thank the Lord our God

For the blood that we have shed,

For the tears the vanquished shed,

For the breaking of the bread

From our newfound fruited plains. 

Remember always the great pains

Our ancestors surely suffered,

By their swords our lives they buffered

From the savage, godless stain. 

The unbelievers that remain

Are a shadow of their evil empire.

Now as their own our God they claim,

Their heathen errors cleansed in fire.

And thus the traitors we brand as liars,

They who brand us a nation of thieves.

The hunger of Indians is not so dire -

We send rice that piles like autumn leaves.

 

Dance

Muscles ask no permission
but show you the way
as you sway,
this way and that way,
across fields of worry,
oceans of pain,
mountains of sorrow.

Tomorrow
the dying world
rises around and above.
But tonight there only the love
that raises the walls
and calls all to know,
amidst the lights of the show,
the joy within.