The elders taught us: when you honor
the first, the rest will follow.
So we gather at the river’s bend
where cedar roots grip stone,
where our ancestors have stood
for ten thousand springs,
watching for that flash of silver
against the glacier-fed current.
Today my daughter learns
to read the water’s moods,
each ripple a letter in nature’s
ancient alphabet. She knows
why we never take the first fish,
how that one must journey upstream
to tell its kin we remember
the old agreement:
If we keep the rivers clean,
they will always return.
If we protect the spawning grounds,
they will feed our children.
If we honor the circle,
it remains unbroken.
But upstream, the glaciers retreat
like broken promises.
The river runs warmer each year,
and fewer fins catch sunlight
in the shallowing pools.
Still, we sing the welcome songs,
still lay cedar boughs on water,
still teach our children to read
the river’s changing story.
—
McLord Selasi is a poet and researcher from Ghana who writes about identity, memory, and our connection to nature. Inspired by art, culture, and everyday life, his poetry celebrates the beauty of the world and reminds us of the need to protect it. In his spare time, he enjoys binge-watching fantasy shows and writing songs.
