Digital publication | Page 97

Is falsehood painted on historic exhibitions 

I know it wasn’t a dream.  

Worn pages seared by a  

Silence... 

Swollen with stories that barely made it to the books 

Pages fall like raindrops around me 

but they do not soothe the parched land 

Words, voices  

They lie collapsed, crumpled on the ground like 

Bodies ravaged by disease and hunger, wounds recounting torment  

Chained by shackles we cannot see  

That imprisoned hands from writing their part in our nation’s story and  

Suffocated the melodies that belonged to its song. 

Naïve, blank eyes squeeze shut. 

 

Painting by J.R.W. Turner, The Slave Ship

90

In steps between the past and the present 

Between lies fed on silver spoons and truth ushered in 

Through a gradually opening door 

I know the entity I sense and the people that stood as part of us for centuries 

So, with conviction I pick up the paintbrush,  

dip it in color imbued by recognition and make a first stroke. 

 

I step forward  

I open my eyes until the shadows  

That live in the light beyond our gaze  

Surface as they sing,  

pulsing with bronze that glows

 

And once more I see 

The sun.