Max’s Musings: Sarah Stockton

Seattle writers are no strangers to their ability to conjure rich imagery through nature.  

I Sing the Salmon Home: Poems from Washington State, edited by Rena Priest, is a poetry anthology full of diverse poems celebrating the tales of the epic fish. Priest states in the preface of the anthology that this passion project of hers stemmed from how “salmon are a keystone species, which means everything relies on them, and if we want to be okay, the salmon must thrive.”

The repetition of salmon throughout the anthology can’t help but portray salmon as mystical, spiritual, and ethereal beings. The salmon stands as a symbol for rebirth and the endless cycle of life. Priest concludes how she hopes “that the poems in this collection will carry into the hearts of readers a wish to preserve and protect the gifts of salmon bestowed by a beautiful living earth.” The anthology unites individuals for a common cause.

Each poem that appears throughout the collection stands as a little snapshot of nature as they highlight the unique treasures around the glorious state of Washington. Each poet interprets their own meaning and value of the salmon like dictionary entries.

I Sing the Salmon Home, edited by Rena Priest

The Evergreen Echo

In the introduction of the anthology, co-publisher Holly J. Hughes discusses how imbedded underneath these string of poems “is the indomitable spirit of the salmon heading upstream against all odds”. If anything, a salmon is a good role model to fashion one’s life around. The collection’s theme provides feeling of tranquility and serenity for a brighter future for the Earth.

With many powerful contenders worth reviewing, I finally arrived at “Salt and Other Spells”, written by Sarah Stockton. The poem was originally published in Luna Luna Magazine back in 2019 until it found a second home in the anthology. Stockton “is the founder/editor of River Mouth Review”.

Salt and Other Spells

            Inspired by the spawning cycle of

            Salmon in the Dosewallips River

We were water once

cynical, transforming

salt and sentiment into scales

anadromous

 

moving from sea into sweet water

catadromous

fresh to salt

to spawn, traveling

 

in deep-sea channels

transitioning

from silvery blue

to darker, going home

 

as we, floundering at water’s edge,

turn in four directions

three visions, seven cycles,

bowing to salmon slipping through water

The poem, like others in the collection, serves as a love letter to the salmon. The speaker reflects on the salmon’s existence and how people are “bowing to salmon slipping through water”.

As it celebrates nature at its highest and lowest forms, Stockton’s insightful poem produces a calming and serene sense inside oneself.

As salmon alternates and migrates between fresh water and salt water, I cannot help but draw a connection to human life. People are constantly maneuvering between life’s salty “sea into sweet water”. Full of hardships and rewarding times, the salmon embraces the hearty journey. So should we.

Life, full of countless opportunities and victories, allows humans to “turn in four directions, three visions, seven cycles”. Even though we cannot travel every single one, the ones we are meant to see will appear in our current. Our courses are individualized no matter how hard we want to follow and compare them to others.

Just like opportunities, life is full of barriers and obstacles while “traveling in deep-sea channels” in hopes to come out on the other side to return home. Sometimes leaving home is its own obstacle. When one’s home is not producing the best version of yourself, it is time to find a new one. As someone who moved from Texas to Washington for a plethora of reasons, I am beginning to find a home here. I traveled my “deep-sea channels” and still have a long way to go.

Humans’ paths are not linear. It is okay to take a step back from progression and return home to recharge your energy from the real world. Just like salmon, people need to return home and recharge. Sometimes, “going home” is all one needs to charter their course again.

Salmon are blessed with the ability to know where home is, unlike humans. We are always constantly questioning our direction in life and where we belong. I am no exception. As I am close to my one-year anniversary of moving to Seattle, the city is beginning to truly feel like home. As home changes for the better, humans possess the ability to create it anywhere, whether it’s in a physical place or a stronghold in someone else’s presence. 

With the poem dedicated to the salmon of the Dosewallips River, I invite you to escape the constructions of everyday life and immerse yourself in nature’s never-ending lessons with renewed reverence.