This was completely and 100% inspired by the chapter Grammar of Animacy in  Robin Wall Kimmerer awe inspiring book, Braiding Sweet Grass. A tribute to Indigenous Peoples Month.


I nestle into the curve of the roots
Surrounded by the sounds of my youth
Chipmunks digging,
Beechnuts falling
Mosquitoes buzzing,

objectifying and reducing, is the language of botany,
 something’s missing, 
a force, prana, ki or chi
all the names of this allusive energy

The Native languages were washed away,
Kids taken to learn the New England way
So few left that speak these tongues
All this wisdom these souls have sung
Flung into the darkness, 
Hung on the final rung,
Careful whispers from time - millennium

Now my nouns are heavy and my verbs are weak
Obsessed with objects is the way I speak
If I surrender the gender, change the grouping forever
Not he or she, how about animacy?
Not it or dead but living lively?
Thomas Berry said it so lovely
The Universe is a communion of subjects
You and I hurt by a collection of objects

She kneels to inspect the track of a moose,
SomeONE’s already been they’re on the loose!
A deerfly soars into my head and sat
SomeONE’s sore and trapped in my hat.

Democracy of species NOT the tyranny of one,
Birch people, Bear people, all people one!
Democracy of species NOT the tyranny of one,
Snow people, Rock people, all people one!