POETRY: WANDA JOHN-KEHEWIN

STAND 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.