i remember as a child, my Mother had a dream;
more like a vision, it was waking.
She told me
She saw the rivers & caves,
paved by waterways filled with stalagmites & stalactites
underneath the Great Salt Lake, & the land surrounding.
She saw the earth that currently holds us collapsing
in a terrifying & beautiful way
to open up the passageway to a new world underneath our feet.
i imagined it, so beautiful, as it is now,
intertwining caves waiting for life to make a crowd.
i imagined after the crowd on top fell down into its fragile infrastructure;
would it look like boiling pots of soft, deep, earth vents through water?
i didn't know why or how it would happen, but, i do now.
i see the water drying, into the bed.
i feel the change a comin',
& it makes the blood bled
& the gratitude for all the time i've had
to cherish the love for this lake instead.
in as many shifts it will change,
it will always be the same.
like water, everflowing,
taking every shape;
the shape of time,
the shape of rhymes,
the shape of yours,
the shape of mine—
the shape of feet that walk on the salt,
the shape of treats we put in the vault,
or duplicate & share at no fault.
memories in our minds,
may we open up our vaults
& connect in deeper ways
lift this collective haze--

take the time to praise
the land that built us to survive;
the land that we make, that keeps us alive.
the symbiotic nature
of this ecosphere
so blue;
the symbiotic nature
of it's creatures here,
so True.
when the time comes for our earth to swallow corruption
we will know we all played our part in the disruption
of the breaking of homeland, by letting love into flow.
everflowing,
abundant,
taking every shape;
we are resilient as water
at our drop or at our wave.
what ever stage we may be in,
we were made to make this life & the land we inhabit,
not to take.
so we do.
we don't reap or sow,
we listen & stay True.
the land, She speaks low,
so sit silent, we knew
deep in our bones
that She wants us to bloom;
let's do it for us,
& this land of water too.

Note from Elaisha, e/they/them: I am a child of this valley, which is a child of the lake my ancestors likely fished & swam in. The dying of an ancient lake created the space for all of us to currently inhabit this land— for land life to grow. I'm here to mourn this body of water, as my ancestors likely did for the last Great Lake, & thank Her for the abundance of joy, resources, & memories She's birthed for all of us.