Circle the Wagons
Channel: Bob MacKenzie - poet, novelist, performer
Date: 2013-02-14

Award-winning Canadian poet Bob MacKenzie reads his poem "Circle the Wagons" during a benefit performance for CFRC 101.9 Radio in Kingston, Ontario.  For some time now, the Idle No More movement has been building it's numbers and influence in exposing concerns about the Canadian government's disregard for the rights of the nation's aboriginal peoples and the land, as well as the rights of Canadians in general and the government's abandonment of ecological concerns in exchange for greed and profit.

This poem is about that movement and that struggle.  The title makes reference to Prime Minister Steven Harper's tendency to not listen to the voice of the Canadian people but instead, like the cowboy he aspires to be, to circle the wagons and hope movements like Idle No More will just go away.  Sadly for Harper.  They will not, and they are growing in strength.

For those who wish to read them for themselves, the words to the poem follow.  Apologies for the fact that YouTube has greatly undone the format of the poem and I don't know how to fix it.

          Circle the Wagons

on the edges of the cities,  
deep in the heart of each city  
in the shadows from sea to sea 
hiding in plain sight in the light 
in towns and reserves in the north 
in the south and in all places  
restless ghosts wait for the right time 

we are not dead, we are not dead 
the drums beat    
we are not gone, we have not gone 
the drums beat   
out of the long silence always 
hear our song    
we are the people of this land  
hear our hearts   
hear us, hear us, hear us, hear us 
our heartbeat    

the dance has begun across the land 
the spirits are idle no more  
the people are idle no more  
the ghosts are singing of justice 
the people dance for their freedom 
hear the drums beat across the land 
the people dance for what is theirs 

hear the hearts beat across this land 
we are not dead, we are not gone 
from the small town up to The Hill 
we sing, we dance, cry out as one 
we are the people, we are the land 
return to us what has been taken 
return to the land what has been lost 

hear the voices of the people  
risen as one from the shadows 
buried in residential schools  
in reserves, in inner city death 
we take back what has been stolen 
we will speak the old words again 
we will find our forbidden faith

we are not dead, we are not dead 
the drums beat    
we are not gone, we have not gone 
the drums beat   
out of the long silence always 
hear our song    
we are the people of this land  
hear our hearts   
hear us, hear us, hear us, hear us 
our heartbeat    

young men die on inner city streets 
young women vanish in the mist 
on streets and along lost highways 
but before that we were taken 
long before that we were hidden 
hear the drums beat, we are not gone 
restless ghosts we wait the right time 

we are marching across this land 
we are drumming across this land 
we are dancing across this land 
we are the spirit of this land  
we are the people of this land  
we have been idle far too long 
we will sing out for justice now 

The Queen's no longer on The Hill 
treaties, agreements, and contracts 
all lies, all broken, hear the drums 
our chief starved to meet and be heard 
our people starved but were not heard  
the ghosts have waited far too long 
idle no more they cry as they rise

we are marching, hear the drums beat 
we are singing, our voices are loud 
we are dancing, our time is now 
we are the spirit of this land  
we will be heard, hear the drums beat 
on The Hill the man ignores us
hears the drums, says circle the wagons

we will be heard, we are not dead 
the drums beat    
we will be heard, we are not gone 
the drums beat   
the beat of our hearts as one heart 
hear our hearts    
we are the spirit, we are one
hear our hearts   
hear us, hear us, hear us, hear us 
one heartbeat    

on The Hill the man ignores us
hears the drums, says circle the wagons
we are marching, hear the drums beat 
we are singing, our voices are loud 
we are dancing, our time is now 
we are the heartbeat of this land  
we will be heard, hear the drums beat 

             written by Bob MacKenzie
             February 11, 2013