We Are Kin

Cataclysmic rains, hurricanes, sand storms, and powdery mildew spread everywhere.

Do not wonder how this happened.

We told you what to grow, how to grow, what to feed and how to concede.

And still, when hunger ravages all the bellies and drought plagues the land and paths are washed away by rivers that never return, we will not berate, scold, nor abandon you.

We will sit alongside you and nudge you forward. We will show you where to find seeds and weeds to eat.

We will unearth water and extend kindness because we knew all along that you were enough.

(This sacred planet that hangs in the stars embraces you and craves only to be remembered).

We will hold your hand and teach you how to save your tears to quench your children’s thirst and give you visions of buck and bison, eagles and mongeese, who are long gone.

And the nightmare you’ll live won’t be what you’ll dream of at night when survival is a thing again.

You won’t have to ponder the beauty of your heart or the pulse of the universe because you’ll remember it fondly when you look at your grandchildren’s rags.

Oh, how you’ll long for now, the before, when rain could be measured and hot and cold was fleeting, and for quiet afternoons around a fireplace or playing games on a pebbled beach.

When ease wasn’t a memory.

(Many long for this right now, your before).

Everything will be more vivid and stark because of the binaries you used to colonize planet, until she was forced to hide underground where humans fear to go because all the coal is burned up and diamonds rot in landfills full of clothes, we never wore.

But still, you will hope, not for before nor yesterday, nor when you were a child and now you want a childhood for your children; you will long for a heart that listened better, that saved seeds and made a home for all on a planet that belongs only to herself and the stars.

How you will hope, need, want and reach for, not shopping malls and pumpkin spiced frappucinos, your favourite Thai restaurant or yearly attendance at a hedonistic music festival but for clean water and mouths and hands free from disparity.

You will thirst for songs of togetherness, beauty and celebrations of Creation.

We are the ones we seek. The medicine that cures. The helper that is helped.

The healer that heals.

(The hungry fill gardens with squash and tomatoes for everyone because we are kin).

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

We are kin.

Slocan Valley City--Rain over Vallican before the 2024 fires.

©Rebecca Rogerson 2025