these veins of fire do smolder
beneath ash and flesh-
our eyes glow red-
and lips spit rocks-
we morph and quake
and shimmer and shake
and burn it all again.
in the dust the sun does bake
the ash to caked earth-
and a seed finds
its way to grow.
now our arms do shake as we begin to awake
and reach for the sky we fly….
and as storms do come,
and as mountains do cry-
-silent-
in their shadow-
we call home.

LAWETLAT’LA