One Tribe

We gather together today,
Brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles,
And it struck me how things never change,
Though the years fall like autumn leaves,
Leaving a blanket of beauty on the earth below,
And we lay to rest one of our own…

The scene was so strange to see,
For as I look around me,
I see a line of division so keen…

My father’s tribe stands to the left,
Speaking their native tongue,
They are a quiet people,
And they whisper softly when they talk,
All the men so tall and brave,
And I realized,
I didn’t know very many of their names…

My mother’s people are small and loud,
Talking to loudly,
Laughing too often,
Their eyes shine like glass-

They stood on the right,
In bright colored clothes,
And I listened as they laughed…

Telling each other,
Remembering the stories,
Of all the things you once did…
But still it struck me odd,
That it looked like two
Separate tribes…

It was the children that caught my eye,
They did not seem to know,
That someone had died,
And they played together,
As though they were one tribe…
The quiet and the shy,
The loud and brave,
Stood side by side…

And I realized in that moment,
The hope for the future,
Lay in those tender hands…
For they did not speak the same dialect,
Yet found a way to say,
“Come on let’s play…”

So when it came my turn to speak,
I could not help but to forget the words
I had so carefully planned,
And shared instead all I had seen,
Hoping you would understand-
On this lovely autumn day,
That line of division,
I have seen through out my life,
Disappeared today…