Refugees of Reason

qu'appelle

wind combs my hair
and waters my eyes

parched prairie grass crunches
beneath my feet

to stop, to stand and stare
above this giant geological trench

                                        this valley so deep, ears crack on descent
                                        (and ascent too)

cacti flourish
foxtails sway and bend

above, the sky, so blue
the summer sun so bright

sweat beads, sweat seeps and leaks
from beneath my hat as I gaze towards

                                         a valley carved by ice flow, wind and water
                                         (14,000 years ago)

tipi rings
the artifacts remain

natural buffalo pounds
bleached bones surface and shine

15 poles, four seasons, and four winds
ancient peoples, prescient voices

                                          this valley calls us to remember, protect
                                          (and so honour)

these lands
these coulees

baked dust falls
my hands are dirty

I'm guilty, complicit, yet temporary;
we only rent this land but briefly

                                          this valley remains innocent and eternal
                                          (forever sacred)

~ gtk