I am the sum of all my mistakes
a lingering feeling of regret
washes over centuries of my bloodlines
I am the native, the colonist, the savage,
the imperialist, the immigrant, the slave,
the forman, the lord, the worker bee, the
plantation itself
growing from bloodied weeds.
My children will likely be light skinned and privileged like my great grandfather, James
Or they will not exist at all
If I spend one more night teetering at the edges of relief
Quiet.
I remember the smell of roasted corn in the evenings
and tortillas burning my fingers
I can’t feel the tips of them anymore
I can’t feel the ravaged happiness of my earth
There is only the confusion,
the conundrum
What and where and who and how
And will it ever be more?
– sheila c.
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You are the sum of all your mistakes, yes, but mostly you are the sum of all the wisdom you chose to learn from them. There is always more.
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Don’t I know it, Roger! It’s good to express though. 🙂
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We are every good and bad thing that we did, and tried to make better. We are all the glories and the toxins of those who came before us. We rise from the ashes of the bridges burned. You have created a beautiful new light that shines your world over as a result of all that has happened to you, with you, or before you!! Your expressions are beautiful!!
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So beautifully said, I agree 100%. Thank you for your kind words of encouragement. 🙂
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Always! Love your work! 🙂
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