The Earth Forgets


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they buried their elders by firs and pines
but the good earth has sucked back their bones,
washed the soil clean.
they who sang sacred songs to the Mother.
who came from the umbilical cord of the Earth.

today they drum.
hold tight to their feathered headdresses.
dance their rituals and pitch long blazing cries.
yet they wear suits and ties. drive trucks.
walk, talk, sell insurance and craft their wares.
but they know their loss.
the coyote's eyes still smile and the woodlands
cast their spirit magic.
they see the old gardens,
the sublime flowers and shoreline villages.
they, whose fathers and mothers
rode the sacred groves,
wandered the Oregon valleys,
crossed the fertile lands,
and the craggy Steens and Wallowas.

today the vast land hosts ranches,
timber yards, glass factories,
fenced fields, industrial stacks,
24-7 restaurants, and five-star hotels.
now rivers run jetboats.
ski lodges offer up hot toddies.

Earth forgets with ease.
auctions off sorrow for so little.
these first people see the warm blue sky
and the tragic star from which they came.
they hear the voices of their long gone elders
in the sandy soil, the green pines, the night air.
they speak with gentle promise.
carry a brave face and a vision
beneath the life giving sun.
the vast lands have forgotten them,
though they not the land.