This wilderness wasn’t a wilderness
until they arrived and called it ‘wild’.
They constructed roads, ran boats
up and down our rivers,
built bridges, fenced fields,
built stone buildings, desecrated
the curves of the land
with square shapes and right angles,
razor sharp lines that ‘tamed it,’
they said, but we said ‘destroyed it’.
Where now the spring salmon runs?
The dam that put the river in chains
drove all those fish away.
Upstream, down stream,
towards the river and away from it,
the four cardinal points
brought ruin to our sense of direction.
Where now the land’s lost soul,
the ancient paths our people walked?
In place of the circles we built from stone,
the stones that pointed the time of sky,
that tracked the seasons,
and planting time and harvest time,
they gave us clockwork clocks.
Yes, they tamed this wilderness,
but they broke it down and we watched,
helpless, as they stole its soul.
Click here for Roger’s reading on Anchor.