The Birds of Waaxp̓inč̓a

Late spring evening,

a thousand turnstones sing

across the harbour

on what we mamalthni*

call Neilsen Island.

The First Peoples of this land

have always known it

as  Waaxp̓inč̓a,

island of the river otters.

The birds converse

in their ancient tongue.

The Nuu chah nulth say

there was a time

when human and animal

plant and tree

spoke to each other

in the same language.

It is we mamalthni

who have forgotten.

But the living land and water,

cedar and osprey,

orca, wolf and bear,

must carry this wisdom 

of interconnection

in cellular memory.

In counterpoint

to the moment’s rapture,

a boat motor roars;

a seaplane flies in, low:

we humans, being –

our cacophony and clamour,

our relentless encroachment

on the wild -

the thousand singing voices

fall suddenly silent.

*Mamalthni is the Nuu chah nulth word for white people

-shared with earthweal, where my prompt is: Soundscapes