My Ma was flipping through a magazine and ran across this poem, about her hometown and our peeps. How random is that? (Our peeps being the Menominees, obviously!)
Every spring the tumbling waters
cascade over the falls
landing on rocks millions of years old.
Here the drumming begins,
icy spring waters calling the sturgeons home.
That`s why the Menominee,
when treaties forced a choice of land,
chose the falls at Keshena.
For here, after hard, depleting winters,
new life was given
as the fish came home to spawn.
Here hunger ended
and hope was restored.
If one`s heart is quiet,
there is a drumming in the stillness
and an eternal flame of hope
in the Menominee Nation`s heart.
Bishop Robert Morneau