A flock of Geese is a Gaggle,
Crows a Murder, and
Any more than a dozen Ravens a Conspiracy,
In Indigenous Teachings, Trees are Our Standing Family,
Our Brothers and Sisters,
Who Teach us Patience and Wisdom, and
Require Our Stewardship.
The Eldest of Our Family need to be Honoured,
Not seen as so many Beams,
Beams, which build houses of Consumer Dreams,
Developments that Tar, and Scar, the Land,
As they spur Demand, for More and More.
Land which Nobody Owns, rather Shares with ALL Life.
Our Standing Family,
Cleans the Air for all the Creatures,
Listen to the exchange of Breaths,
As we commune in an Ancient Shorthand…
A Dialog which Our Actions no longer Honour.
Under the Freezing Moon,
I Witness the Trees in a strong breeze,
Arms and Fingers reaching and missing each other,
Longing for the close embrace of the Leaves in Summer.
About this Poem
Kingston poet Geoff Travis Canadien describes himself: "Mohawk, Turtle Clan, my Nation is Kahnawake, Quebec".