Canadian Spirit Voices



On Spirit Lake the voices flew 
across the coves where forests grew, 
tossing the fragrance of the sun 
over the pines where spirits run. 
Where spirits ran, they run today, 
ancestors' voices up the spruce, 
where paddlers camp but never stay 
where eagles eye the rummaging moose, 
where wolves and bears are born again 
only to see their spring cubs slain, 
where we encamped and they stormed in 
and killed the last of our last kin. 
    Can you imagine what a surprise 
    when they see clarity in our dark eyes? 

Richard Vallance