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First Nations Poetry


She is feminine
She is woman
She is alive and looking down on us.
She controls water, tides and oceans.
She sings
She cries
She longs
She has pride
She has a memory of millions of years.
She is as old as time itself.
She controls cycles in women
And she brings out emotions in men.
Ritual and songs are created to honour her.
Beauty, strength, gentleness surround her.
She is all seeing and all knowing, omnipotent.
Wisdom and guidance is in her.
Romance and love entertain her.
She measures and keeps time for us in monthly phases
She circles and circles
And is the guardian of all the children.
She is respect and nobility
She will always shine
… forever …
to infinity.

-Leah Dorion, July 2001

Red Willow She Bends

Red Willow she sang to the East Wind

Red Willow she danced for the West Wind

Red Willow she opened her heart to the North Wind

Red Willow she sang to the South Wind

Ever Red, Ever Bright, Ever Growing.

-Leah Dorion, February 2007

Mother Earth

She reminds me of my own Mother.
She has many scars that are not Her fault.
She has seen many battles and has endured
each and every one of them.
She has never stopped supporting me though.
She still continues to protect me and looks over me.
She gave me the tools I need to survive.
I return the favor by supporting Her, protecting Her, and
giving Her the tools she needs to survive.
Most of all I am grateful every day for the gifts my
Mother and Mother Earth has given me and continues
to give me each and every day.

Denise Mckay

Statl’limx Fishing: Night Air

On the Fraser River rocks remain warm
from day sunlight
The river thundering, transforms to muffled sloshing, its movement
demands space as water splashes rock

Away from urban lights
I wait
Meteor showers spray and streak across
the sky, layers of black and blue with spaces
appear to shift, stars at home
in the sky

Now, out of sync two satellites cross quickly
And high above the river bed, sound of gathering tension
several BC rail engines haul northern logs
Frenzied sparks on rails toss bickering light
at midnight

Laughing, talking, we stop: rocks falling, rolling
through sage brush and choke-cherry bush
We strain to see upward to piercing darkness
then velvet stillness

We await the wind spirit, that down rush of nightly hot air
that sweeps along the Fraser River
to wind dry sockeye salmon

Lila Wallace

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Ashley permalink
    06/18/2014 1:59 pm

    I love these poems. I was wondering if someone could let me how to contact the author to ask permission to use them in a newsletter…

    • 03/19/2015 9:15 pm

      Google? As this is a learning site, the reproduction is covered by Fair Use privilege – nonprofit educational use.

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