Tranquility—inspiration of thoughtless wonder
Between air and water, no intrusion breathes
Solemn laments for peace, I found
On these Oscoda sands harmony, rhythm weaves
Who can tell where the lake ends
And where the sky begins
Standing upon these Oscoda sands?
The depths of Huron
Rising far over head
A high tide carrying apparitions
Sorrowful memories flow
The Anishinabe cry out
For scarred land, scattered people
Who once fished for the trout
Where has gone the Ojibwe?
And their brothers Chippewa?
Where’s the long lost Wyandot?
Or the wayward Ottawa?
Huron’s depths, undulates beautiful sorrow;
Though mourns, is yet hopeful, commands
The nations of Michigama
To gather again on these Oscoda sands.