Gary Lawless – Terra Nova
Every stump is sacred.
Every stump a saint
Every silted river a church to which
the pilgrim salmon return.
Every breath of wind a love song.
We worship in wetlands,
bow to the fern, the rock,
the holy salamander,
the blood of sweet water,
the body of moss.
The soil is dreaming of trees.
The trees are dreaming of wind.
The wind is dreaming of clouds.
The clouds are dreaming of water.
The water returns to the earth.
Without trees, the soil washes away.
The wind blows over barren ground,
and the dreams of the world are broken.
Somewhere within the shell mound
a dog is barking.
seals turn their ears
to the sound.
sand through our hands
drifts, plants
move along the ground –
to wear copper and bone,
left alone
for two thousand years.
it is where we come to
on this sunny day,
stick our hands
deep into shell and
sand, strike bone,
touch land again,
make the wind,
make the rain.