The hope of ‘Idle No More’

idol no more

Face south to watch the weather come.
Hold out here, burn wood, melt snow,
for the shattered-lantern sky
has left to run with the last Arctic wolf.

The heat will arrive without the heart.
The wind will come in bursts to break the fir,
while the equator composes requiems
its belt of balance undone, perfectly shamed.

The law of compassion has fallen
on the stony paths of policy,
and we wait with empty oil lamps
for the storm to knock at midnight.

But today the snow is at rest in the boughs
and light has settled on a hill beyond the city.
And it is possible to dream the time we entered
and left with gentle trace. Those human times.


  1. This movement, and the writings of people like you Stephen, renew my hope in the true human spirit, one that is still closely connected with the weather, wolves, fir trees, and bird feathers that symbolize bravery.

    While not nearly as eloquently written as your poetry, I welcome and greatly value your comments on my latest post “On the value of raptors” that is a follow-up to my Carson/Silent Spring tribute:

  2. This one made me work. Thanks. earlier today I sent you an article that included a quote from Yeats:
    “Polemics is the argument we have with others; poetry comes from the argument we have with ourselves.” I thought of you.

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