Cash

There's a vicious side to money in this cash society
Which defines one's worth in dollars, sets one's access boundary;
Lets one know their place for certain with no hint of mystery;
Shows the door to those not wanted writes folks out of history;

Shuts out chances to move forward, says who can or cannot speak;
Closes access to the info and the knowledge that we seek;
Raises up with undue warrant those unfit to hold their post;
Leaving others in the gutter, no uncertainty – “You're toast”;

Gives the edge to sons of favour, just enough to win each race;
Helps the undeserving daughter be successful in each case;
Helps the friend or the acquaintance, (it's not what, but who you know);
Runs mechanics of selection, voters lists a cynic's show.

Cash – it rules what's all around me, what's within me and without;
It's almightiness abusive, ruling roost with sultry pout;
Underhanded in its working, sometimes with impunity;
Subtly cuts the floor beneath you, wiping feet on dignity.

Then of course there's family members, kept in line with hopes of cash
Dolled out once or twice like Christmas, “Yes 'sa, anything you ask”;
Twisted around their little finger, till disfigured, gutted, torn;
Till their kids are quite pathetic, children to the Manor born.

Not sure how to get beyond it, things are fastened down quite tight;
Getting on with life quite vicious once you activate that fight;
There's a billion ways to get you, stop you in your tracks once more;
You might make it past the drawbridge, but portcullis bars the door.

What to do, just how to handle, how to live despite their games?
How to do our lives despite them, let them have their precious names?
How to live a life that's precious, walk the walk laid out for me
Echoland between the English – and the culture-land of Cree?

I don't fit the Métis nation, treaty status, white men's ways;
I don't walk the halls of power, plying cash to ease my days;
I don't want to live like Whitey, so offensive with his cash;
I just want to walk in freedom, that is what of life I ask.

How to strip life to its basics, make my way despite those folks?
Fill my days with warmth and friendship, fireside with ruckus jokes;
Songs and laughter, open kitchens, always room for one more guest;
Happy times with out the pressure to be better than the rest.

Little things each person treasures, small successes valued high,
Celebrate new friendship's pleasures, from our birth till time we die.
Open hearts, the sights of nature bursting from the frost in spring;
Summer days, the hum of insects, shuffled leaves that autumn brings.

Soon the winter will be on us, crunching snow, and foggy breath;
Bringing end to lives that raised us, fond farewells at time of death;
Then it's ours – the world they gave us with its money-twisted ways –
Which we'll pass on to our children, coloured by our seasoned days.

So what flavour should be added by this Echolandish Stu?
Act the process – words and pictures, clay expressing right-brained view.
Maybe I'm behind the persons who up-front proclaims the Way,
Flavoured with a hearty meal with which I sent him on his way.

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