#bendthearc

The night before last I had a dream that brave people fighting for water and scared land were being massacred by law enforcement.

I watched the scene from Facebook, a guy I knew was live streaming the events as he ran for his life.

I heard the screams as though they were happening right next to my slumbering body, curled up against me in the sheets.

Wrapped in the threads of my pillowcase.

Waking to California rain against the windowpane cast a spell of unforgiving heartache into my belly.

I wept with fear that my nightmare was truth.

I shivered with the knowing that honor of land and water, devoted love to life and unwavering justice is uncertain...

but that struggle is certain.

Wilting out of bed, my shoulders felt the hands of my ancestors holding me, encouraging me to move forward.

Their gentle push a reminder that before me, they passed through barriers of violence, hate, and agony.

They pushed on for me. They survived for me.

I hear my great-grandparents telling me to stand on them. Firmly.

They are as strong as a rock.