9/20/2020 POETRY: WANDA JOHN-KEHEWINSTAND BY THE LAST STREAM Mother, I can hear you cry with every pipeline being laid to unrest deep in your folds, deep in your layers. I can hear you cry and those who believe know why- Stand by the last stream it’s only a matter of time and stories will be told of a time when water was clean and free. It will be a fairy tale in good books sold at exotic establishments. It will be what dreams are made of and what man will die for. Stand by the last stream watch it struggle pitifully, trying to complete the circle with nothing left to prov. Stand by the last rive,r gather around it to pray hard this doesn’t end the intentions of Mother Earth. Remember the slow trickles, the last sounds anyone ever hears of a time when water was clear and a time when it was free, a time when water fell from the sky clear droplet, clear droplets that could be tasted as it fell. Stand by the last stream that feedds the life of our animals who trusted Mother earth to always provide. Imagine the new bear or the new child not knowing where the last stream is. What will become of them? Stand by the last strea, the last unmurky source of life, peace and renewal, gurgling, choking for breath and space not a fish in sight because they are all in farms and zoos. Stand by the last stream as our children's’ children gather round and wonder why, saying they could have done a better job, and they’d be right. Stand by the last stream, with your friends and loved ones and reminisce about a time when you could reach in with both hand, almost in prayer and cup the water and drink straight from Mother Earth- the breast of mankind. Stand by the last stream wondering what happened, turning into a 3rd world country as the trees that once stood tall, fall by the wayside waiting to be turned into more paper for more signatures and stamps of approval to go ahead and destroy the last stream. Stand by the last stream with your child looking on at the last crystal clear wate trickling to an end and try to find the words to explain. Try and explain what no one will understand and hindsight is 20-20 Stand by the last stream as money floats by instead of fish, and gold can’t be eaten, and silver can’t be eaten, and diamonds can’t be worn, and animals can’t be saved, and the trees rot on the ground while children swarm singing in empty playgrounds by the last stream, and you can’t give a newborn oil, and not even the dandelions will grow, and the birds won’t call, and the pictures you see in your head will only be a story... and the only thing left will be regret... Will you stand stand by the last stream... Previously published in Seven Sacred Truths, Talonbooks in 2018. Cree poet Wanda John-Kehewin studied criminology, sociology, Aboriginal studies, and creative writing while attending the Writer’s Studio writing program at Simon Fraser University. She uses writing as a therapeutic medium through which to understand and to respond to the near decimation of First Nations culture, language, and tradition. She has two poetry books published by Talonbooks, two children’s readers and is currently working on a graphic novel. She finds time to write between the lines.
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