2019 Visibility Through Art Exhibit
Homelands:
Restoration. Sovereignty. Recognition.
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I Heard Their Stories
Poem by Lorena Rose Davis
Nevada City Rancheria Tribal Member
It began with vague thoughts and whispers entering my dreams at night,
telling me to go back, to our ancestral site.
I went into the mountains to see if I could find my once forgotten heritage, I'd gladly left behind.
They say it's in our memories of the one's so long ago handed down from generations, to those who choose to know.
With much fasting and prayer as I sat there not knowing what to expect, when all of a sudden, the ground began to shake.
They came around midnight, a ghostly eerie sight to see singing songs and chanting, dancing around the campfire and me.
Their eyes were like fire, faces chiseled from stone then I heard their stories told in a ghastly moan.
The things they endured for so many years.
I heard their stories sounds of screaming in my ears.
These faces so strong were now streaming with tears.
My mind was racing, heart beating fast looking into the faces I knew were from my past.
I came away from that mountain with a heart full of pride even though I'd tried to hide.
My family and ancestors, had never denied me.