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“The Friend of the Night”In many Native homes, when the sun slipped behind the hills and the drums grew quiet, people re...
12/05/2025

“The Friend of the Night”In many Native homes, when the sun slipped behind the hills and the drums grew quiet, people returned to their tipis to rest —
but the owl remained awake with the night.

My grandfather once said:

“When the village sleeps, the owl keeps watch for us.”

The owl never made a fuss.
It perched silently on a branch near the lodge,
watching shadows move through the darkness.
Sometimes it was a weasel sneaking into the chicken coop.
Other times, a strange wind brushing past a child’s tent.

To the elders,
the owl was a weather whisperer —
if it flew close to camp, winter was coming early.

To children,
its call was the earth’s lullaby,
a story told when mothers were too tired to speak.

To hunters,
it was a silent guide —
if the owl flew east,
they believed the spirit of the animal waited in that direction.

And though its voice could send a shiver down the spine,
no one chased the owl away.
Because they knew:

The owl does not bring fear —
it brings what we are ready to face.

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“The One Who Holds the Circle”They say strength is loud.But the lead wolf never needed to raise his voice.He doesn’t run...
11/05/2025

“The One Who Holds the Circle”They say strength is loud.
But the lead wolf never needed to raise his voice.

He doesn’t run the fastest.
He doesn’t fight the most.
He just watches —
the slowest steps,
the weakest breath,
the ones falling behind when no one’s looking.

His power lives in the spaces between others:
between fear and calm,
between hunger and hope.

The elders say he knows every trail not by sight —
but by memory.
By where bones were buried.
By where others turned back.

He walks not ahead to be seen,
but behind,
to make sure no one disappears.

They call him Solah —
The One Who Holds the Circle.

Not with force.
But with presence.
Because real strength isn’t in leading the pack forward —
but in knowing when to stop
and wait for the ones who matter.

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Between Wing and Wave”I stood at the edge of the world,where the wind howls without a nameand the sea does not ask permi...
11/05/2025

Between Wing and Wave”
I stood at the edge of the world,
where the wind howls without a name
and the sea does not ask permission to rise.

Above me — Eagle.
Eyes like fire. Wings that split the silence.
He sees further than my questions can reach.

Below me — Whale.
Ancient. Patient.
She sings in a voice I do not understand,
but somehow remember.

And there I was, between them.
Flesh and fear.
Will and doubt.

I had come to conquer — or so I thought.
To claim the sky.
To master the tides.

But Eagle did not bow.
Whale did not move.
Instead, they waited…
for me to stop fighting
and start listening.

That’s when I learned:
The sky is not won. The sea is not owned.
They are only walked with —
when your soul is quiet enough
to follow.

So I laid down my pride,
and picked up the rhythm.
Not of conquest,
but of communion.

Now, I no longer seek to rise above or sink below.
I walk the line between —
where spirit meets salt,
where silence becomes song,
where I remember who I am.

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“I Am the One Who Brought the Light”I am no hero.I am Raven. Black-feathered. Mistrusted. Misunderstood.They call me a t...
11/05/2025

“I Am the One Who Brought the Light”I am no hero.
I am Raven. Black-feathered. Mistrusted. Misunderstood.
They call me a trickster.
And maybe they’re right. But not every trick is cruel.

Back then, the world was wrapped in darkness.
Not just the kind that hides your face,
but the kind that dulls your spirit.
No one dared to change anything.
No one believed the light should be shared.

I wasn’t strong.
I wasn’t chosen.
I just couldn’t stand watching children trip in the dark,
or elders sigh as they sat quietly, waiting for something better.

So I did the most foolish, sacred thing I’ve ever done:
I stole the sun from a man who hid it away.

I didn’t keep it.
I didn’t sell it.
I let it go — so the world could finally see itself.

They’ve told stories about me ever since.
Some say I was selfish.
Others say I was the bringer of light.

But me?
I only remember this:

The light was never meant to be owned.
It was meant to be shared —
even if it costs you your name.

🙏🙏Please message me with the image you’re referring to, and I’ll gladly send you the poster link!

"She Carries the World"They say the first mother was born from the shell of a great Turtle, her back curved like the hor...
10/05/2025

"She Carries the World"
They say the first mother was born from the shell of a great Turtle, her back curved like the horizon, her steps slow but certain.

Her children lived upon her — the trees, the rivers, the winds. She never rushed them. She never asked for thanks. She simply carried them, with strength only love could hold.

When storms came, they hid beneath her shell. When the sun burned too bright, her shadow cooled them. Her love was quiet, steady, like the earth beneath our feet.

The elders say every mother is a living echo of that Turtle — her back bearing the weight of generations, her heart beating with the rhythm of the land.

We call her Mother Shell — The One Who Holds Us All.

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"The Flame That Never Sleeps"They say the Rooster was born from a spark that leapt from the first sunrise. While the wor...
10/05/2025

"The Flame That Never Sleeps"
They say the Rooster was born from a spark that leapt from the first sunrise. While the world celebrated the light, he was the only one who promised to never forget it.

So he watches the dark. He listens to the silence. And just before the world begins to stir, he lifts his head and sings—not to chase away night, but to welcome the return of hope.

He is the keeper of time, the guardian of rhythm.
He teaches us that even the smallest voice can carry the power to begin again.

When all seems lost, listen for him—
For the flame never sleeps,
And the Rooster never forgets the sun.

We call him Tláwa — The One Who Reminds the Sky to Rise.

🙏🙏Please message me with the image you’re referring to, and I’ll gladly send you the poster link!

🌊 Spirit of the Sacred Whale 🌊Our elders say the Whale was once the guardian spirit of the ocean, keeper of sacred songs...
10/05/2025

🌊 Spirit of the Sacred Whale 🌊
Our elders say the Whale was once the guardian spirit of the ocean, keeper of sacred songs from creation. We fishermen honor the Whale as our protector and guide at sea. Whenever a Whale appears, it signals good fortune and reminds us of our bond with nature. We carve its image on our canoes, sing grateful songs, and forever respect this powerful yet gentle spirit of the sea.

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"The First Home"Before we knew light,Before we spoke our first word,We knew her.Her heartbeat was the first drum we ever...
09/05/2025

"The First Home"Before we knew light,
Before we spoke our first word,
We knew her.

Her heartbeat was the first drum we ever heard.
Her breath, the wind that wrapped around our forming bones.
Her warmth, the first sun we called our own.

She gave us a name before the world ever did.
She carried us, not just in her body—but in her dreams, her fears, her hopes.
And when we entered the world, she gave us more than life—
She gave us hers.

The elders say the mother who gives birth is not just a woman—
She is the first sky, the first shelter, the first song.

We call her Life Giver —
The One Who Carried the Beginning.

🙏🙏Please message me with the image you’re referring to, and I’ll gladly send you the poster link!

The Keeper of What Cannot Be HeldThey say the Octopus was born from the breath between tides—a spirit shaped not by stre...
09/05/2025

The Keeper of What Cannot Be Held
They say the Octopus was born from the breath between tides—a spirit shaped not by strength, but by surrender.

He has no bones, no armor, yet he survives where others break. The elders tell us this is his gift: the wisdom to bend, to flow, to vanish without fear. In every storm, he finds stillness. In every trap, a way out.

Each arm moves with its own knowing. He thinks not just with his mind, but with his body, with his sensing, with his being. He doesn’t fight the ocean—he becomes it.

The Octopus teaches us that it’s okay not to hold everything. That sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is let go. To change shape. To heal quietly. To feel deeply, and still keep moving.

We call him Yama’tsa — The Keeper of What Cannot Be Held.

🙏🙏Please message me with the image you’re referring to, and I’ll gladly send you the poster link!

The Trickster’s GiftThey say Raven was the first to speak when the world was new—carrying both mischief and wisdom in th...
09/05/2025

The Trickster’s Gift
They say Raven was the first to speak when the world was new—carrying both mischief and wisdom in the same feathered body.

He was not the strongest, nor the fastest. But he was the cleverest. He stole fire from the sky and placed stars in the night, not for power, but because he knew light belonged to everyone. Where others saw trouble, Raven saw a way. He tricked the moon into rising and the tides into dancing.

The elders say Raven’s gift is not just his intelligence, but his willingness to question what others accept. He bends the rules, not to break them, but to reveal what lies beyond.

He laughs when we take ourselves too seriously.
He challenges when we grow too proud.
And when we are lost, he appears—grinning, brilliant, wild—pointing not the way forward, but the way inward.

We call him Yahl — The One Who Outsmarts the Silence.

🙏🙏Please message me with the image you’re referring to, and I’ll gladly send you the poster link!

The Stillness KeeperThey say the Great Blue Heron emerged from the moment the river first met the sky—quiet enough to he...
08/05/2025

The Stillness Keeper
They say the Great Blue Heron emerged from the moment the river first met the sky—quiet enough to hear secrets, gentle enough to guard them.

He walks softly along shores where memories lie beneath the sand. He does not hurry; he moves in rhythm with the earth’s heartbeat, carrying calm in each feather.

The elders whisper that the heron holds within him the patience of mountains, the peace of ancient lakes. He does not explain the world's mysteries, but teaches us to listen closely, to feel deeply.

His wings unfold like the opening of an old story.
He doesn’t linger where he’s unneeded. Quiet wisdom never does.
But where he pauses, harmony returns.

We call him Yáahl Sgwaansing—He Who Brings Peace Without Words.

🙏🙏Please message me with the image you’re referring to, and I’ll gladly send you the poster link!

“The One Who Flies Above”Eagle was not born to walk the earth.He was born to rise above it.While others move through for...
08/05/2025

“The One Who Flies Above”
Eagle was not born to walk the earth.
He was born to rise above it.

While others move through forests and rivers, Eagle climbs the invisible — soaring where no one else dares to look.
His wings don’t just carry his body — they carry prayers.
Prayers of warriors, mothers, elders, and lost souls.

The people say:

“When Eagle flies, the Creator listens.”

Eagle doesn’t shout. He sees. He sees farther, deeper — not just the trail ahead, but the truth inside.
He knows which hearts carry fear, which carry fire, and which carry both.

He is not just power. He is clarity.
He teaches that true strength isn’t about force —
It’s about vision.

And if he circles above you, don’t ask him for answers.
Ask yourself instead:
“Am I ready to see what he sees?”

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