Tuesday, July 6

Forgotten Languages

He came to me in the dark of the night
under the street lights of Guadalupe
speaking in languages I've never known
bestowing blessings upon me unlike any other
then shunned
by the same world that took his away

I told him he's better then this
that deep down his language is preserved in his heart of hearts
and in his soul of souls lives an old wise man
full of survival and power
a shaman
a healer
a leader of worlds stolen
I told him that in the collective body of his indigenous people
lives truth
and that's one thing they can't take away

He came to me
slurring
limping
heart wide open
outside of this barbed-wired heart one night
speaking in tones of purity and insight

And even through his drug of choice
the messages were clear
and in them I realized that
intentions speak louder then any words

I've wondered about him since
prayed for him and his people
felt immense gratitude for his blessings and presence

And somehow
even amongst all the shit
of stolen lands and ways
darkness surrounding survival
somehow
someway
he gave me more then I could have ever asked for

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