UP FROM THE ASHES
Hand fashioning my own spirit
Is coupled with letting go of his.
The dance is held fast,
By the two bullets that
Found themselves holding the blood
That poured from his flesh,
And struggles to break into mad movement.
Young man. Father. Drowning into the other space
Into which we could not follow.
So language began to bleed forth.
Began to be necessary.
Travel, changing air and space,
Country and place,
Driving in old buses in strange lands,
Hearing the tone of new tongues.
Attempting to demand succor,
Forgiveness, strength, daily.
But now I know that new life if
Growing up from the ashes,
Into the sky.
Bluer than blue
Begins to be known.
Language begins to dance
To reel, to ripple, to fly.
Forgiveness begins to grow upon
The pages that wear my words,
As newness glistens.
Copyright Margot Van Sluytman
Palabras Press, 2006
CBC Nova Scotia: Sawbonna and Poetry and Restorative Justice
Master's Thesis: "Sawbonna: Justice as Lived Experience" http://dtpr.lib.athabascau.ca/