America, I Sing You Back



By Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

for Phil Young and my father Robert Hedge Coke;
for Whitman and Hughes

America, I sing back. Sing back what sung you in.

Sing back the moment you cherished breath.
Sing you home into yourself and back to reason.
Before America began to sing, I sung her to sleep,
held her cradleboard, wept her into day.
My song gave her creation, prepared her delivery,
held her severed cord beautifully beaded.
My song helped her stand, held her hand for first steps,
nourished her very being, fed her, placed her three sisters strong.
My song comforted her as she battled my reason
broke my long-held footing sure, as any child might do.
As she pushed herself away, forced me to remove myself,
as I cried this country, my song grew roses in each tear’s fall.
My blood-veined rivers, painted pipestone quarries
circled canyons, while she made herself maiden fine.
But here I am, here I am, here I remain high on each and every peak,
carefully rumbling her great underbelly, prepared to pour forth singing—
and sing again I will, as I have always done.
Never silenced unless in the company of strangers, singing
the stoic face, polite repose, polite while dancing deep inside, polite
Mother of her world. Sister of myself.
When my song sings aloud again. When I call her back to cradle.
Call her to peer into waters, to behold herself in dark and light,
day and night, call her to sing along, call her to mature, to envision—
then, she will quake herself over. My song will make it so.
When she grows far past her self-considered purpose,
I will sing her back, sing her back. I will sing. Oh I will—I do.
America, I sing back. Sing back what sung you in.
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke, “America, I Sing You Back” from Streaming. Copyright © 2014 by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke. Reprinted by permission of Coffee House Press, http://www.coffeehousepress.org.
Source: Streaming (Coffee House Press, 2014)

clear.gif ALL IS FINISHED
CHIEF DAN GEORGE
SALISH
(1899-1981)

I WANTED TO GIVE SOMETHING OF MY PAST
TO MY GRANDSON.
I TOLD HIM THAT I WOULD SING
THE SACRED WOLF SONG OVER HIM.
IN MY SONG, I APPLEALED TO THE WOLF
TO COME AND PRESIDE OVER US,
WHILE I WOULD PERFORM THE WOLF CEREMONY.
SO THAT THE BONDAGE BETWEEN MY GRANDSON
AND THE WOLF WOULD BE LIFE LONG.

I SANG.

IN MY VOICE WAS THE HOPE
THAT CLINGS TO EVERY HEARTBEAT.

I SANG.

IN MY WORDS WERE THE POWERS
I INHERITED FROM MY FOREFATHERS.

I SANG.

IN MY CUPPED HANDS LAY A SPRUCE SEED..
THE LINK TO CREATION.

I SANG.

IN MY EYES, SPARKLED LOVE.

AND THE SONG FLOATED
ON THE SUN’S RAYS FROM TREE TO TREE.
WHEN I HAD ENDED,
IT WAS AS IF THE WHOLE WORLD
LISTENED WITH US
TO HEAR THE WOLF’S REPLY.
WE WAITED A LONG TIME
BUT NONE CAME.
AGAIN I SANG,
HUMBLY
BUT AS INVITINGLY AS I COULD,
UNTIL MY THROAT ACHED
AND MY VOICE GAVE OUT.

ALL OF A SUDDEN
I REALIZED WHY NO WOLVES HAD HEARD
MY SACRED SONG.
THERE WERE NONE LEFT!

MY HEART FILLED WITH TEARS.
I COULD NO LONGER
GIVE MY GRANDSON
FAITH IN THE PAST, OUR PAST.
I…WEPT IN SILENCE.
ALL IS FINISHED!

 

Extermination of a Nation
By: Jo Whitehorse Cochran

hope remains
as the sun rises
and the rays
fall on this earth
for another day
and the light fades
and hope remains
for the rising of the sun again

and when the westerners came
the white men
thieves in the night
taking with one hand
and holding with the other

raping, tormenting and killing
the men and women he should have known
as his sister and his brother

killing for the land
which he has raped and destroyed
concept of unity
of which he is devoid

destruction and disregard
for the plants, the animals and the earth
this place of his birth

and in his consciousness he knows
and within his soul the disharmony grows

out of balance with the four elements
now his decedents and his children pay
as this land is ravaged by earthquake and flood
famine and fire
disease, death
and the violent spilling of blood

and as there is light
there is hope
that there is sight
hope that those who have not seen
for so long
will see
and return to a balancing way

for as
voices in song
rise from the center again
the resurrection of the living way

unsung unseen
till now and from the long march in between
from their voices, their souls
and their hearts
their song
it resonates
and the earth
and the universe
knows

and with our hope
the rest of us
join in the song