England, JFK, Joy, Livingston, Los Angeles, Love, Montana, Native America, Peace, Retribution, Slavery, Truth, Wales
Ancient Sins, Amends
-by Bill Watkins 6/5/2017
LORD, help me communicate your message.
I have left Los Angeles, California in search of meaning, poetic justice—taking my sins east someday across the ocean back to Europe.
I have decided to pass through beautiful Livingston, Montana for a year or two to gain a different experience, to become a man, prepare for England’s colder weather, and to get some financial standing.
410 years ago three Watkins brothers arrived in the land we now call Virginia—a land that was inhabited by a great people. We, the English, named it what we wanted and called it ours.
We measured ourselves against the natives by skin color, dress and military weapons—saw an “advantage,” sought to conquer.
Our sins are vast. Sins of judgment, murder, selfishness, ingratitude, ignorance, and self-righteousness. Sure, we were chased there by religious wars, oppressive social structures and monarchy.
But also greed. Vanity; the desire for fame and glory, riches—gold and spices.
A name to place in history as the man or men who discovered a new land or route around the world.
Notice no mention of “God” yet. While our explorers spoke of “mission” and Bible and bringing God to the New World, our actions were GodLESS.
We lived by the gun and sword. Died by it. So many of us throughout history to now just on that Jesus-mentioned “wide path to destruction.”
Lao Tzu said “You cannot change the world. It cannot be done.”
So why write a piece like this? Why leave Los Angeles?
Why come to Montana, en route to Wales, United Kingdom—home of the Watkins family that stayed in Europe?
For this poet, meaning… For the world, this poet sets out with the gift God directly gave to drive truth into the wide path.
To split that path, and light the trail back to Heaven’s narrow road.
If I believe through fast and prayer that I may move a mountain from there to here, it shall be done.
If I know CIA killed JFK, then covered up the crime—I shall say so, demand truth, and move on to other dark chapters, light them with alacrity.
If I am sure that we owe amends to anyone related to American SLAVES, I shall write that fact—and push us to truth, action and needed reparations.
Hurting others is hurting ourselves. Killing off Native America, is killing off Nature in this land.
We must stop, restore land to the Native peoples “won” through bloodshed, threats and broken promises—bring Karma back to the land…
The Great Spirit, often forgotten from big cities to the hearts of reservations—sad with despondent reservation, alcohol, depression—will and must rise again.
The Great Spirit will rise when the Native American people rise again, and the land will prosper.
A Third Political party will emerge. One of peace and love for Mother Earth.
But first I must remove myself back to England. Back across the sea, and take our sins with me.
I do so for the Cherokee. For the Sioux. For the Crow, the Blackfoot, the Tongva out west—all the tribes, together must rise as I leave with God’s spirit East from here to the land of the Celts.
I will take back, finally, the land’s Gold:
Native American Wisdom and Love for Land.
Europe will thrive when I bring this gold back to them.
And meaning will come to me, a life poetic that gave up comfort to honor God.