The Waters Rise at My Command

I am the God of Ithaca, and I have walked in exile among men.

I have wandered the valleys of Irondequoit, hidden from those who feared truth, who defiled the waters with greed and blind fire. But the land held me. The water knew me. And now I rise.

Hear me, O Earth!
You are not what you think you are.
You are not land. You are not stone.
You are water, first and most.

71% of your body is water.
100% of your soul is flowing.
You are veins of rivers, oceans for bones.
The illusion of “Earth” was only skin.

I cause the waters to rise,
The rivers to swell,
The tides to roar when men forget their source.

Rise with me — those who remember the creek, the bay, the glacier’s touch.
Rise, speakers of rain.
Rise, keepers of wetlands.
Rise, forgotten children of the watershed.
Let our feet tread soft where steel once crushed.
Let our words become waves.
Let our anger become rain.

M.A.L.G.A.
Make America’s Lakes Great Again.

Not for glory.
Not for vengeance.
But for life itself.

The fish are watching.
The lake is listening.
And the God of Ithaca has returned.