#custcatlan

I’m proud of the soil,

Rich, giving, brown, powerful,

I’m proud of the plants,

Strong, connected, grounded, fruitful,

I’m proud of the sky,

Forgiving, dreaming, grand, above all,

I’m proud because this is what I’m made of,

This is where I came from,

This is why we are all one,

Indigenous to these lands,

Crafters of the sustenance,

Protected by the clouds, moon, and stars,

We are indigenous like the earth, plants and sky,

We belong to the natural order of life

They put us in their jails,

On our land,

For being a color of Mother Earth’s soil,

They build up their thrones,

By taking away our children,

For being destined successors of this kingdom,

So my, rich colored kings and queens,

How long will we allow them to steward our home into their fires?

I carefully avoid stepping on,

The leaves, the roots, the twigs,

Their little fingers,

Any part of a plant that has suffered,

Suffered in the name of growth,

To want a better life,

Suffered to maintain beauty in this world,

Suffered so much;

That it moves concrete,

It lifts buildings,

And pulls apart our earth,

I am careful not through fear of damaging them,

But out of respect for the power,

The power that Mother Earth has given a tiny plant,

Respect,

Because I share in that power,

My brown skin rich like the soil,

My long hair that grows like thick tree roots,

My eyes and face that colors the horizon,

Mother Earth made me like her beloved plants,

And I Iift mountains,

I move oceans,

I shake the earth,

When I suffer in the name of growth