why do shitty people seem
to come out on top, while those
they harm are forever pushed down
back onto the ground?
why are their hands full with favour,
while our noses are rubbed
in the muddy scraps?
I’m tired of being resilient!
tired of hoping that one day
I’ll get up off the ground
and stay up.
but they hold us down.
if this is how it’s going to be, fine.
won’t be resilient, I’ll be resistant!
I’ll breathe in the wet Soil,
flick Sand up into tearless eyes!
I’ll fight this silencing, reject it
from the lowly bottom up,
rot their weedy Roots away
with my warrior song.
singing out to my Ancestors -
“remind me who I am,
the Woman I’m meant to be!”
I am Bird feather. Bat wing.
Black Snake scales polished to
iridescence by obsidian tears,
Rainbow Serpent armour.
Platypus spur. Lioness step.
Sea Lion tooth nipping
at the toes of tomorrow to
swim faster, catch up or be
swallowed by hungry Sharks
tired of waiting to be seen.
we live in a world where the
bad guys are protected, excused.
it can be hard to stand tall.
but friends, remember this:
the Fire that burns also glows,
the Water that drowns also flows,
the Wind that breaks also blows,
the Earth that weeps also grows.
we weave ourselves into warriors
when we fly towards the Sun
instead of hiding behind
Moon Shadows – she’s been our
silver Aunty, but we are golden too.
it’s time to stop orbiting
unjust worlds and become what
worlds orbit around.
we have mass! and we have the
Gravity to determine
how fast this world spins
in and out of rhythm.
weaving a warrior, I strip twine
from my fallen Trees,
threading a needle made
from my broken bones.
take a breath, tie a knot,
going under, getting over,
coming through…
woven around my core.
story stitches pulled together
by small, strong hands
into tools that carry, catch
bind and hold.
we are not resilient, no.
we are warriors taking shape.
*Poems and artworks by Sara Kian-Judge 2021
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