Tragic Magic

I watched The Hip the other night.

I saw old Gordie give it.

He poured his life out on that stage.

I saw him ache to live it.

I saw the effort on his face

Delivering each lyric.

He rose above the challenges,

But was the victory pyrrhic?

His words were pearls and I the swine.

I pondered on their meaning,

Recondite and profound at times,

Still some parts I was gleaning.

But twice he spoke explicitly

Between the crowd’s ovations

About our duty to address

The need of our First Nations.

He told us we’d been programmed

From the day that we were christened

To let our Native people’s cries

Rise to the skies unlistened.

He pointed to the leader

Who is ready to take action,

But we all must get behind it

For this train to get some traction.

We will become the people

Who will match our misty image,

Or will we flag and fail again

Upon this line of scrimmage?