The Poet's House

imagine
we can row a cloud
like a canoe
to wherever we want
and white swans follow?

our paddles carved from the finest imagination,
like river salmon heading out to sea.
the rippling skies abundant with laughter
as scented winds carry our dreams.

in the distance
we see an island
untouched by adults;
a place just for us
where tears do not exist.

all the forgotten children will be there
welcoming us like lost friends
we will embrace and laugh
and forget bad things;
our paddles wiggle
then swim away
through the clouds to the open sea.

can you see the white swans
as they surround our island?
their calls echo like thunder
as scented winds
find waiting parents.

In the residential school
before falling asleep
I would whisper these words
so we could all dream
in a place that never believed
in dreams.

-end-

4,120 Indigenous children died while in the custody of residential schools in Canada. On September 30th we honor those who fell to the hands of the church and government. For those that died, and those that survived, may your spirit forever be felt by those holding the troche of truth and reconciliation.

Author: Michael Plante
Editor: Marie “Metaphor” Specht
Image: Majestic Swan Flight
Artist: Unknown
Source: Stockcake