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Let the waters of the Klamath be released. Let the walls of the four hydroelectric dams be blasted apart, ripped down to bedrock, concrete and rebar pulverized so only the scars will testify to what once spoiled the river. Let the rains come and wash away the remains— the silt, the pesticides, the cyanobacteria —all the old hatreds, the blood of genocide until the waters sweep away the past; Let the waters, the mighty waters sweep down from the headwaters through Ishi Pishi Falls, carrying away all the foulness spilling out past Requa and the Klamath Bar until the living and the dead gather for the story of a river reborn; Then let all that still swims return —the Coho, the Chinook, the ancient Green Sturgeon, the Lost River and short-nosed suckers; Let them leap and fight their way upriver to clean gravel beds where the hens may rest their sacred eggs amidst the stones so the jacks may pass their blessing over this new generation; And later when the offspring have returned, let us all gather to feast —the heron, the coyote, the eagle and osprey, the brown bear, the Yurok, the Hupa, the Karuk—all who still hunger for rebirth; Yes, let the waters of the Klamath run wild once again and bowing to the dead, let all the world be renewed.
David Holper.