We come together
in a common search for truth;
we won’t be silent.
Symbolic gestures
are useless, we need real deeds;
the Voice is a start.
Let’s do the right thing;
respect First Nations people
and give them a voice.
Prove you’re not racist;
acknowledge your privilege,
and accord respect.
Our history’s black
with violence, red with blood;
we must own our shame.
Voice, treaty and truth;
partnering to build justice,
inching us forward.
Compassion, common
sense, understanding and truth;
let these things prevail.
White privilege, blind
and ungenerous, never
conceding an inch.
I’ll be voting ‘No,’
he adamantly declares;
doesn’t give reasons.
They have been frightened
by exaggerated claims.
But things have to change.
Deep prejudices,
unknown and unadmitted,
threaten our future.
Older white people
grew up without the stories,
remain in darkness.
Now we know. Murder,
massacre, dispossession;
our national shame.
Many the children
taken from their families;
the traumas abound.
We must not retreat
from the racists; their hateful
bones tremble with fear.
The darkness thickens.
Even more reason to tend
the flickering flame.
So much selfishness,
failure to see our neighbours;
we must learn to care.
Let love be your guide.
Plant seeds of justice and hope.
Tend them ‘til they bloom.
© Ken Rookes 2023
