Dreamtime story this morning about a great Drum, long returned to the womb of Mother Earth that became uncovered with no human interference after a long slumber. Though long buried in the land of our traditions, the Drum's hide remained perfectly intact and its beat sonorously but silently called through the collective hearts of the people belonging and related to it.
We heard it.
We listened.
We gathered.
We did not share the Drum's call or location with the media because we knew the museums would sweep in and steal it from us, call it an artifact too precious to be handled by the very people whose ancestors left it for us.
Was told a child might die, but that Drum, woken from its sleep, its beat continually reverberating through all of us, kept all that was and is important alive.
We knew there was much tireless work to be done putting the pieces back together, but first we decided that honouring and celebrating the Drum was priority.
I woke up feeling both sad, and hopeful.
Oh Canada - you insatiable capitalistic vampire in the home of Native Land just sucking the life out of Mother. You are the parasitic twin we carry and are deeply ashamed of.
We heard it.
We listened.
We gathered.
We did not share the Drum's call or location with the media because we knew the museums would sweep in and steal it from us, call it an artifact too precious to be handled by the very people whose ancestors left it for us.
Was told a child might die, but that Drum, woken from its sleep, its beat continually reverberating through all of us, kept all that was and is important alive.
We knew there was much tireless work to be done putting the pieces back together, but first we decided that honouring and celebrating the Drum was priority.
I woke up feeling both sad, and hopeful.
Oh Canada - you insatiable capitalistic vampire in the home of Native Land just sucking the life out of Mother. You are the parasitic twin we carry and are deeply ashamed of.