Blood Moon's Eve

I distract myself with technology
With bills and well written movies
While the ancestors complain through
The relentless rain and thunder
Punishing the modern house which
Shelters me . . . .

As my drum waits in the new closet
Lifeless with no motivated strikes
Created for me to perform
An important task . . . .

The bones on the hillside
Now more impatient than
The newer dead
Knowing my time is up
Knowing countless moons
Have passed and now
This Blood Moon
Will free the tension
Reconcile the shock
Validate the grudges held
Against those who deserve
Nothing here but yet who
Still take what they don't deserve.

I through some kind of special gift
Not understood even unto me
Will restore calm and soothe
The ancestors who if they waited
One day or thousands of days
Would not know the difference

Only we know the difference
Because they tell us it is long ago
Disappointment lingers since
Nothing built or known
Nothing worth a legacy
Erased and ruined by
Two legged jackals
Who could act and not think
Who could exist without feeling
Whose ancestors are hollow shells
With no character

They have nothing because
This isn't settled
They pretend to be great
But having nothing great
To offer or be.

This forgiveness of debt
Changing both sides
Seed the near future with
Something authentic
Something new and beautiful
Where destruction and laziness
Flattened generations of them.

Timing is everything now
I am called to awaken into
Someone great for less than
One hour on this
Harvest Moon's Eve.

-Eve Featherstone