What is the truth to one man
is a lie to another.
Two sides to every story.
Two sides to every coin.
Is this the beginning
or is this the end.
Those subjective markers
of the time continuum.
It’ll all return to stillness
and stories of what was
when it’s all said and done
but what voice will speak
when we’re all gone?
Will there be anyone
to sing my song?
Will snow-covered mountains,
continue to stand in silence?
Men start wars
to avoid uncomfortable silences.
“Never be still!” He screams
Stillness thrusts us inward
to look within the window
that houses our soul
we’re afraid to discover
nothing but a black hole
a sliver of time
wedged between
past and future.
I have a Master’s in Social Work (MSW), I’m a Licensed Clinical Social Worker working as a therapist and I have a passion for writing, poetry in particular heals my soul. I enjoy expressing my experience as a Native American, woman of color, mother, social worker, activist, and mystic.