The Stranger within my gate, He may be true or kind, But he does not talk my talk-- I cannot feel his mind. I see the face and the eyes and the mouth, But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock, They may do ill or well, But they tell the lies I am wanted to, They are used to the lies I tell; And we do not need interpreters When we go to buy or sell.
The Stranger within my gates, He may be evil or good, But I cannot tell what powers control. What reasons sway his mood; Nor when the Gods of his far-off land Shall repossess his blood.
The men of my own stock, Bitter bad they may be, But, at least, they hear the things I hear, And see the things I see; And whatever I think of them and their likes They think of the likes of me.
This was my father's belief And this is also mine: Let the corn be all one sheaf- And the grapes be all one vine, Ere our children's teeth are set on edge By bitter bread and wine.
Extremely drawn to water, the idea of sailing, oceans, etc when I am pregnant and with every child I have the feeling grows stronger and stronger. I have birthed in water every time thus far. I don’t know what this means.
I think it’s quite convenient that solidarity when it comes to remigration and advocating for our own nations to be strong is spreading like wildfire and now the Greenland conversation has brought animosity towards each other back on the menu for so many. Probably nothing!
You’re being called a fascist, a Nazi, whatever historical or otherwise names can be thrown at you in desperate attempts to stop you from defending yourself. It is a desperate, “last-ditch”effort of sorts. Become unstoppable.
It’s not genocide to import diversity into our nations until our nations are wholly unrecognizable, but it IS genocide when we do anything to try to resist this. Are you paying attention yet? Steel your hearts- you’re going to be called names, gaslit. Refuse to be dissuaded.