Kus-Kus-Sum

.

‘Kus-Kus-Sum’ she whispers across the river

She heaves a great sigh

together we breathe

.

No longer hemmed in

no longer braced by steel

nor weighed down by concrete

.

She is free

free to return

to her natural state

~before industrial levels

of resource extraction

clipped her wings

~before the take, take

of newly arrived men

reshaped her banks

.

She is free to return

to mourn and honour

her K’omoks ancestors

laid to rest by the Pəntl’áč River

where life flows unending

where salmon have journeyed

back and forth for ever

.

Where Nootka roses once decorated the shore

where salmonberries ripened in June

and red flowering current in July

shaded by Willow, Alder and Douglas Fir

watched over by Queneesh

the great white whale

.

The way it was for millennia

the way it was meant to be

the way it will be once more

.

‘Kus-Kus-Sum’ she whispers across the river

She heaves a great sigh

together we breathe

.

Kus-Kus-Sum

Kus-Kus-Sum

Kus-Kus-Sum

.

By Carys Owen