Join the new world

A song to First Nations



Why are you angry, my people?
The bitter bile of despair poisons.
Point upwards like a churches’ steeple
Rejoice, as at a birth of a first son.

Wail not for the old days
They are gone with the stink of the dead.
Bath with pride in the sun’s rays
And look upon those who have wed.

Who can go to a pow-wow
Without seeing the rainbow crowd?
Wise woman has had the know-how
To make copper and silver proud.

All things change, the best survives.
Know that we are yet the best.
The practice of “coup” revive!
We have changed, but not for the less.