A Conversation

This water cycle is a collective work by the vigil poets of Antelope Island on 2/25/2023.
Distilled by nan seymour

Part 1: The Poets Speak to the Lake

When you sing, together we sing back,
remembering who we were before human.

Remember who we were before human,
inspiring countless sunsets? Reflection:

countless sunsets, inspiring reflection.
Oh, I’ll bet you’ve never seen a rainbow—

I’ll bet you’ve never seen a rainbow
send love to the moon until she shines it back.

Send love to the moon. She shines it back
rough and soft, tears in evaporated drops.

Feeling rough, evaporated. Soft tears drop.
Great Salt Lake, I’m crying. Please don’t fade away.

Great Salt Lake, I cry: oh please, don’t fade away! 

I run to your shores to find myself,

to find myself running on your shores,
replenished by your questions for us.

Replenish what is sure with more questions,
echoes of ancestors, shared wisdom.

You echo the ancestors' wisdom.
When we sing together, you sing back.

Part 2: The Lake Responds to the Poets

We could just sit quietly together—
you’ve got what you need. Come be with me.

You’ve got what you need and more. Come,
my love. Live in reciprocity.

Living in love and reciprocity,
I live through grief as death beckons me.

I love through my grief as death beckons.
Slow moving river of water-color.

Slow moving river of water-color,
weaving our ancestors together.

Braiding our ancestors together,
calibrating their tools to my saltiness.

Calibrate your tools to my saltiness.
Meanwhile, I shine to catch your attention.

Still shining to catch your attention,
I welcome these snows of winter with hope.

I welcome these snows of winter, with hope
we could sit quietly together.