My ancestors were invaders
one, and more, hundred years ago
from far pale lands.
My ancestors were invaded
one, and more, hundred years ago,
having been here thousands
of successive generations.
Who has more right?
Tragically, greed and technology,
in the form of gunpowder,
itself stolen, stole the land,
and killed millions.
Only one thirty-second of me
is native, genetically,
and regretfully, we
can only guess our tribe.
Who am I, truly?
What part of me belongs
to this Turtle Island?
What ceremonies do I need
to prosper and connect
fully to my roots?
What language
is my own?
How do I respect
Great Spirit of all
and Mother Earth below?