BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Dear children,

Please don’t rush to grow up.

Enjoy every single moment of your peace

Free from troubles,

Like the saplings that have patience to outgrow

The forest beds into the canopy

When it is their time.

Sweet babies

Value every second of playing,

Ignore negative remarks.

Attempting to quicken the pace of growing

Up, into a world that

Doesn’t want innocence to be the focus.

Lessons will learn in time,

In its own pace,

Milestones will be reach just at the nick of

Time.

No need to compare how fast or slow,

All shall be accomplished in fate.

Please enjoy your youth

Little ones.

Life will not halt or rewind,

Expanding like the stars we cannot see

With naked eyes.

Memories are like snowflakes

Unique to individuals,

Sometimes aging will make them melt

Before you can relish their designs.

Little ones

Don’t rush to grow up.

Enjoy the carefree world

Before reality strikes.

Youthful laughters are the medicine

During harsher times.

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

The drums and songs have saved

Generations from the turmoils of

Cursed Lands filled with lost souls.

Where decisions were made by choice

Or wrongful convictions, or ones filled

In the spirit of necessities.

Where they are laid to rest

Behind walls that would label them

For eternity as the enemy.

Only for the potential threats

Of good medicines to be taken away

By those whose intention and beliefs

May hinder restorative practices,

Only promoting punishments.

A tear equates to a thousand leaks

From any vessel that grips to the speck

Of redemption.

To be heard

To be seen.

While some only see it as cuts to keep

Pockets well fed

Could be the only thing that keeps

One’s sanity, within a limbo

A foot in this realm

Another foot wanting to exit to find peace

In the next.

How many more waterfalls does it need

To drench up the concrete jungle

Known as society to take a glimpse.

The greed of reductions to save pennies

Will cost humanity more

But it’ll be too late once everything

That was taken for granted

Disappears and is gone.

For the women in Edmonton Institution that have been facing refusals for being able to play on the big drum. There are folks out here that stand with you all.

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Like eaglets preparing to fly

Outgrowing the nest and its parents,

There is always a time

To say goodbye.

Like bear cubs learning to hunt, fish

Forage and scavenge.

Fending off danger on their own,

There is always a time

To say goodbye.

Like a baby leaving the comfort of the womb,

Praying for a peaceful transition from a child

To adulthood.

To witness the world from different perspectives,

Innocence is not a guarantee with age.

Even with luck

The terrors of the world will soak

And force eyes to open.

No one is safe.

Saying goodbyes to life as we know it,

For the times this world will continue to evolve.

Languages and cultures will continue to fight to exist,

Extinction of ancestral knowledge

Is always around the corner.

Newer generations are passed down the torch

Only they know what they can add and subtract from traditions.

Welcoming and goodbyes to what works in a society

Without destroying generations of knowledge and spiritual wealth.

Saying goodbyes to grief-stricken realities

Relearning to have a childlike faith.

Saying goodbyes to hesitation,

No more being afraid.

Goodbyes and let go

It is not always a bad thing.