A Shift of Perspectives

I do not write of trees today Rain forests doomed from the first time The caravels slant across the bay I do not hear bird songs Silking sunset or dawn Today I am warrior I am on the streets of London too For more from democracy is due Not just a voice anymore But a place we never had before At the table of equals Reversing the minus sum of history. And If I die here If I never return to feel your body Where I poured my love before Then mark my grave with a tree And let a blackbird cry for me.