Monday, March 22, 2021

FAIRY CREEK

 

Fairy Creek Valley
TJ Watt photo

I remember standing on the road
in the Summer of '93,
hundreds of us, holding placards,
hearts high on hope, and singing.
We stopped the trucks from rolling in.
It took the love of thousands.

It is 28 years later (!!!)
There are only a few
ancient forests left
on this Island that I love.
And now they're coming
for the big trees at Fairy Creek.

I can hear the Old Ones 
sorrowing on the breeze.
Cry of raven, song of wolf
plead with us to save
their forest home.

The trees tremble in fear,
holding hands across
the forest floor,as the noisy
grappleyarders move in.

Bring out your drums,
fine people.
Put on your jingle-skirts;
don your medicine bundles.
Shore up your hearts with
love of wilderness,
of life, of the hope
of a tomorrow for all beings.
Shine up your courage;
fortify your hearts.
Meet us on the road;
there will be dancing
and fellowship
until the trucks roll in.

The law will tell you to disperse.
Stand strong! This is not 
the time to falter or to bend.
Time to listen to the trees,
who are speaking with
their leafy tongues:

Thank you for coming.
We are with you.
We see the kindness
in your hearts.

The last of the Standing People
are calling. We place our bodies
on the road. We will stand firm.

If the Old Ones fall at Fairy Creek
there won't be much of a story
left to tell.


for my challenge at earthweal: Old Growth: Last Stand at Fairy Creek.

As I was looking at earlier poems, to spark some ideas for this poem, I found this one. I include it, just to give you a smile:

Grandmother Cedar,
instead of cutting you
to be pulped into toilet paper,
for wiping the
disconnected assholes
of the world,
we should be
worshipping
you.

11 comments:

  1. If only trees could talk... I liked the personality you brought to them.

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  2. I love your poem Sherry. You reminded I can indeed take my medicine bundle and join with the people blocking the road in spirit even while it is not physically possible for me to be there. Thanks for reminding me of the power of forest magic. Suzanne of Mapping Uncertainty

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  3. I venerate those old trees -- from afar, and sadly much in memory -- for our kinship with them and what they slowly awaken and grow in us. We are their canopy. Thanks for bringin' it to earthweal. - b

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  4. Another tall tree of a poem, Sherry. I love how your memories interweave with the trees’ story, and your call to action.

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  5. 28 years later and still fighting the same battles!

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  6. Sherry this is so hauntingly sad! I did get a chuckle of the ending, but the rest of it makes me hurt. I ache when trees have fallen in my yard by storms or by my husband's hands. Save the trees, please!!

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  7. Bring out your drums and chant for the spirits of the trees to stand tall and whisper wisdom to those who are willing to hear.

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  8. I'm standing with you and the last defenders of this sacred forest, even if only virtually. If the law allows this to happen then the law needs to change! I liked the epilogue as well :-)

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  9. This is such a beautiful stanza of a sad situation:
    "I can hear the Old Ones
    sorrowing on the breeze.
    Cry of raven, song of wolf
    plead with us to save
    their forest home."
    Thank you for taking a stand for them and for us!

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    Replies
    1. And thank you for this prompt to keep the conversation going.

      Heather

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  10. we humans are still blinded by the smoke from the fires we set ~

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