As It Was Then "A Chumash Poem"

We are a humble people.
In pre-California statehood days
we extended our arms in friendship to all who came to Santa Barbara
not knowing we would soon be betrayed.

Oh hear the voices of the spirits of my ancestors crying out for our culture to return, as it was then.

Let us rejoice as we honor the cultural traditions of the past
passed down from generation to generation through the millenia.

Just like the ocean tides changing the erosion of the shifting sands,
I see white caps forming before the vast horizon
and in the distance an albatross cries into the wind,

"Where are the children of the land;
where have the people gone?"

Let our blood flow within our veins
keeping us strong like the branches of the mighty oaks that shade us from the sun
while we share the coolness of its shadows in harmony with mother earth.

"Ho," the raven sings,
"Go forth my brothers and reap the harvest of the wind
Cast your dreams into the wind."

Tomorrow we shall awaken,
and as the mighty oaks drop their acorns across the land,
we shall multiply the seeds of life spread out upon the land.

We reach out to the alishaw (sun)
which nourishes our people with sunshine, herbs and medicines,
our people shall rejoice once again in harmony with mother earth.

Oh hear me Great Spirit in the sky,
guide the hearts of all people,
let Your wisdom be their shining light.

The Great Spirit hears the cries of the children
in the darkness of the night.
A beautiful celestial landscape sparkling in the night
reflected in the eyes of our children by day.

The howling winds across the cresting white caps
push upwards in a burst of spray upon the sea
forming the radiant midst of falling tears
of the restless spirits and the Chumash searching for return
to their homeland.

Let the thundering clouds resonate
through the valleys of whispering oaks
so you may know that where we walk,
all walk as one, in honor of the Great Spirit.

For we are pak'a (one).
Today is a good day.
The alishaw (sun) has risen.