A River That Lives Poem by Jessica Kissner

My Indian camp believes
The Omahama River is alive.

It is a place of spirits that we do not see.
Grandmother oak, Grandfather Wind, and Anut Eagle
Protect and lead the river though the lands.
Brother Bear and Sister Wolf, Father Elk and Mother Cougar,
Drink from the stream as sqirrels play on Grandfather Elm.

We settle here, near the end of this river
Scared to go into this land of spirits.
Sometimes I go to the spirits homes
And run with the wolves as their sister
And one day I know
I won't return.