Here, the forests are fluent in fire even though their first language is air
The lands have been taught that there is nothing wrong with being used
The waters give and give and get nothing in return
But, if you walk for long enough, you’ll see that in some places
the trees race against the skyscrapers
arriving at the finish line and breathing out waves of oxygen
Proud, as they stand fighting the winds,
The winds that knock down telephone poles and silver signs in the cities,
they hold up their green trophies; carved with years of photosynthesis
and they never plan to stop
They pose on their podiums, surrounded by the sunny sky
listening until nightfall.
They listen,
Because the moon and the stars have their stories too.
They watch bustling cities and busy streets
filled with neon lights flickering in defeat.
Unable to keep up with nature’s eldest daughter.
She,
she has learned that Man does not listen
that he is stubborn and inventive
He claims parts of her body as his own
He gives them names like Quebec and Saskatchewan,
burying her mother tongue under concrete
and ignoring years of accumulated wisdom
But when she sees the cities,
failing to illuminate the sky as well as her moon does,
failing to build homes as timeless as her trees
she shakes her head because she knows
that even if they were to win,
They’d lose everything.
By Lila Ciesielski