Come ye ambassadors and visionaries
guardians and diplomats revolutionaries and civic leaders
of this breathing and living island
in the brooding bosom
of Salish Sea,
come wander the overgrown trails
through spilling foxgloves and wild lavender
through tricky thorns and furrowed earth
and stroll fearless the water's precarious edges
so you may know and taste the shape of this land
in all her glorious colours.

We have run out of time - there is no time -
for positions and positioning,
for arm chair philosophizing
and devil's advocate debates on how to dance on the point of a fence
while the house is burning down.

There is no time for leftist rightist centrist depictions
and rambling pontifications and proud allegiances to semantics
and synonyms and acronyms and clever witted riddles
and Dr. Seuss puzzles that can never be
solved.

Come now dear leaders and join us in the streets
where the artists still roam and the children walk unafraid
in the new born breath of spring
in the happy isle glow of summer
in the dark rain whispers of autumn
and the wind kept secrets of winter.

Calling calling
are the ancient songs
of all sentient beings
one song inside and outside
born of earth and sea and sky
melodic longing
that speaks of unity and a renaissance
of love without borders.

Thus, open wide your doors
and break through the walls,
stand freely by un-bought gates
and place no barricades between yourselves
and the rising swelling pulse of a land alive
in the Salish Sea.

Build no more dusty and death affirming foundations
with flattened dreams,
for now more than ever
is the time to reach high
and when the song is dreamed
the hummingbirds will appear
at your doorsteps
and know your names.

Dare to walk beyond the paved and comfortable
pathways you have known,
for there you will find
your brothers and sisters,
some still hurling themselves into the flames
to catch a piece of paradise
in the Salish Sea.

Hear their stories
and touch the fabric of their lives
with that which is deep within you,
as vital and unwavering as the air
you breathe,
as lovely as the ones you love.

Lend your voices
to their tears
and turn those tears
into actions
one drop at a time
to repair the fraying threads
and nourish that which feeds
us all.

It is the death of wonder
in the heart
that kills us
slowly.

So be wondrous,
be wondrous
of all the different shapes and patterns and colours
and combinations,
every tree, every rock, every wild thing
has something to say,
every face, every eye
has seen a thousand good-byes
so tread softly,
speak gently.
A small moment's injury
can last a lifetime.

May we never know the disappearance
of the blue herons,
and may there be no absence of imagination,
nor exile
of the human heart.
Carry our hopes
in tender hands
and we will walk with you,

we shall walk with you
under a new day sun.

lisa shatzky