Water is Life, we always knew, but now
we learn while standing with the Grandmother
with the pitcher in her hand
on the dock at the river.
We wake to prayer at Standing Rock as if
we had always woken and thanked the Life
Water holds out to our hands
as if we hadn’t forsaken it.
And now—no matter where we are—our mouths
find the “thank you” as we swallow Water
because First People helped us see
our omission and the danger.
Where are they now, those who cared to teach us?
Did they come home with us who stayed a day?
Life is Water that they protect.
Where are we without this love?
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