Wednesday, July 9, 2014

This my take on tolerance (in Scotia Nova)

In Thir Haunds

Afore the present chynges tae
an echo doon ma mind’s
tuim corridors and fades awaa,
afore Ah’m blotted oot
bi the muckle snaa
wi white feathers whisperin
‘Wheesht’ and ‘Sleep’
Ah want tae say

that Ah wis born in this land
and Ah’ll maist likely dee here
and Ah hae a dream o a future
abuin the oozie, glaurie tides o hate,
the chaunts, the threits, the mairchin bands, parades,
the drums duntit, tubs thumpit –

'Wha’s like us?' fowk blaw
but Ah ask masell:
Wha’ll dae better than us?
And Ah hope the answer’s wi us, in oor bairns
and oor bairns’ bairns,
blatterin doon the waas o prejudice,
openin thir minds, airms, herts
tae brithers, sisters, kent or unkent, aa.

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