Dancing at Fairy Creek

Just when the world seems
darker than dark, as I strive
to hang onto some hope
for the fate of the world,
comes a note of justice and sanity,
as a judge throws out the injunction
under which police brutally assaulted
the land defenders at Fairy Creek.

On the news, the forest defenders
were dancing.

The police packed up their vehicles
and went away. No more tear gas
sprayed into faces, mouths, genitals.
No more heavy equipment inches
from human bodies. No more toppling
young people from 30-foot heights
to the ground. No more broken bones.
No more crushing peoples' cars 
or use of "pain compliance."

The trees have been falling at Fairy Creek.
They are still in danger. But for
this one moment in time,
after one year of putting their bodies
on the line for the ancient trees,
after 1100 arrests, there is
this moment of joy, of relief,
of the possibility of reason and hope
in a greed-crazed world.

On the news, the forest defenders
were dancing.


This poem was inspired by the events it speaks of. The judge said that police behaviour carrying out the injunction reflected badly on the court, so he did not renew it. It was also sparked by the poem "Collecting Light" by Deborah Cooper, which closes with these lines:

"I save up every scrap
of light,
because I know that it will take
each tiny consolation
every day
to mend the world."

That it will. And every little bit helps. We can't give up, ever.