memorial at the vancouver art gallery honouring the 215 indigneous children whose remains were discovered at the kamloops indian residential school in bc (photography by ben nelms, courtesy of cbc)
this soil is drenched in blood that runs across highways of tears and scorched pavements
beneath the trenches of this land hear the whimpers of an ailing mother earth
her children their bodies discovered by dragging knuckles across unmarked mass graves
dousing gasoline on flames and traumas that devour smoke and entire nations like a furnace
piercing shrieks rumble partition walls thundering, between shriving pews
that hold pages of gospel pressed between the blood-stained hands of priests and rosary beads
bear witness to the bones and scattered ashes the silence
there’s nothing your half-mast symbolisms will do to reconcile the wreckage you’ve unleashed on young spirits
i hear them calling hushed whispers asking to come home
if the root of oppression is the loss of memory then is remembrance the threshold to justice?
an open door towards a mosaic of truths a balm for healing
a tender loving softness against these hardened plastered walls built on genocide and theft
oh, little ones you deserve more than empty apologies and hollow promises
you deserve more than candlelit vigils and teddy bears
you deserve to be seen to have your names and stories released from these secret shrines
to finally put to rest everything that has ever hurt you you deserve justice we will keep fighting for you.
dedicated to residential school survivors and their families
