My Island

My bear self needed to heal past wounds
To listen to the song of sweet robins
To learn the language of deer and owl
To walk where ancient ones had walked
Laich-Kwil-Tach
K'omoks
Qualicum

In the smoke filled longhouse listen now
to hear them sing their nature songs
to dance the thunder bird mask with rattles
while the drummers drum deer skin beats

The scent of cooking salmon near the fire
fills the air and cedar smells so sweet
Generations down thru time they had
no stores
no ferry
no cell phone
no computer
no cell towers
or television
they had stories to tell about the day
they hunted deer
gathered the ripe
huckle berries
salmon berries
oh how they feasted on
herring
cod
oyster
Oh how they were in tune with nature
With the great mystery of everyday life

These tribal folk are this islands ancestors
The land remembers them we need to remember them too