Machias Bay Petroglyphs
I wonder . . . I wonder
Will things ever change?
As time slowly rips away
I wonder . . .I wonder
As the water tears away chunks of stone
slowly changing. . .rapidly changing
I wonder . . .I wonder
As I look upon this stone
How long will these stay here?
I wonder . . .I wonder
As the hunter listens for game
Mother giving birth, what will I see?
I wonder . . .I wonder
As Aputumken slithers on the surface
and Thunderbird spreads his wings
I wonder . . .I wonder
As the little people are dancing
What will I leave the wonakomehsis today?
I wonder . . .I wonder
Moose, deer, people etched upon this stone
What has been lost?
I wonder . . .I wonder
About this magical place
This place that is born from our way of life.
Rooted Beings
Living, dying, quietly I sit here
recording these silent lives in my memory.
Few pay attention
leaving these rooted beings to themselves.
These ancient ones stand proudly
listening to and watching the world around them.
I wish I could see through their eyes
see how the world has changed.
I see them unchanged, unconcerned with the world of man
as they dance to the sound of music only they can hear.
They are always dancing
swaying from side to side.
If you sit quietly you can hear them
whispering to each other.
Whispering silently
it is the sound of rustling leaves to our ears.
The feeling of them evokes
what it is like to touch ancientness
As they are living and dying
I sit here quietly.
