
I see you
superimposed on
the landscape,
melting in
to the shadows of buildings,
sidewalks, trunks of trees–
woodfern
sweetpepper bush cherry
maple oak
panicgrass
fleabane hornbeam chestnut
marsh blue violet–
I float on
streams to the river–
pickerel perch
otter duck–
climb paths up forested hills–
bear fox rabbit deer–
My Lady
of Mannahatta–
swallowtail
buckeye spring
azure monarch–you gather
me windwhispering
on hawkwings–
full green animate,
this island—
return me
to the timeless before, when
land was shared, not owned

Welikia means “my good home” in the Lenape language. The Lenape tribe were the original inhabitants of Manhattan and the surrounding lands. Their main village was where Yonkers is now; they had temporary structures on the island of Mannahatta for use in hunting, fishing, and gathering.

The Welikia Project is an interactive map of New York City, where you can find out about the biodiversity and landscape of the island in 1609, before it was developed by Europeans. The idea that the Dutch “bought” the island was not one shared by the native peoples they then forced to leave the land.
Today, the NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live.”


Wonderful to learn of these first inhabitants, Kerfe!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Ingrid. The Europeans were not kind to either the native inhabitants or the land. As it continues to this day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And now we are paying the price…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Over and over again.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Do you dream of her? Fascinating words and beautiful art. Cool project.
The Lenape lived here, too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, they occupied all of New Jersey and part of Pennsylvania and Delaware too. They were rootless for quite awhile, ending up in Oklahoma.
I can’t say I dream specifically of her, but occasionally when I find myself alone somewhere in Central Park, it does feel a bit like time and space are overlapping, that I’ve been transported back. How beautiful the island must have been then.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That timeless before must have been a wonderful place.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree. Magic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like how you have depicted Welikia in image and word. Your poem reminds me of some written by Kim Blaeser.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Jade. I don’t know her work but will look fo it.
LikeLike
So very interesting ❣️
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s an amazing project. There was once a stream right where I’m living now. I wonder why cities can’t be built around the natural world rather than over it. OK, I know the answer…money.
LikeLike
☹️ yeah
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for sharing this, Kerfe. We are at times so ignorant of the first inhabitants.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We like to gloss over our less enlightened history. But then we can’t learn from it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So we do and that’s why our learning is impaired.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m nearly done with re-reading The Years of Rice and Salt, by Kim Stanley Robinson. It’s an alternative history where the plague wiped out almost all of Europe – so Europeans never colonized the rest of the world, and the people of this landmass carried forward in a far different manner. this poem resonates of that ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
There are so many if onlys in our history. Which should not keep us from making course corrections.
LikeLike
And now I enter the rabbit hole to learn more and lose myself and expand my horizons… Thanks for a poem that does all that and more!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Muri. It’s definitely a rabbit hole. I will be going back down inside too.
LikeLike
❤️💗❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Ruth.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brilliant, informative, beautiful. In Slovenian, “velika” means big (for female nouns, for male it’s “velik”).
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s a lovely sounding word. As suits the idea of home. Everyone should have one, as big as they need.
LikeLiked by 1 person