https://www.facebook.com/122102482172007436/

Laughing Brook Stream, 3820 E Xyler St Tulsa, Oklahoma, New York, NY (2026)

09/24/2025

"Where the Paper Birds Rise"
She walks where the grass hums low,
braids trailing the memory of rivers.
The deer beside her steps in silence,
its heartbeat a soft drum in the hollow of the world.

Around them, white birds lift—
not of feather, but of folded dreams,
set free by the warmth of her hands.
They spiral toward the pale sky,
carrying whispers the wind will keep.

Her earrings catch the light like distant stars,
but her eyes are the dusk—
deep, patient, holding the shape of the earth.

In her stillness, the meadow listens,
the deer listens,
and somewhere far away,
the mountains lean closer,
to hear what she will not say aloud.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/24/2025

Moonlit Prayer
Beneath the golden lantern of the night,
she bows her head,
braids whispering like rivers of midnight.

Her horse, white as winter’s breath,
waits in silence—
eyes reflecting the fire of the stars.

The water holds the moon
as if it were a secret,
a circle of light older than memory.

Feathers and beads tremble in the wind,
telling stories of ancestors
who once sang to the dawn.

In her stillness, the earth listens.
In her breath, the sky remembers.
Together, woman and horse
stand as one prayer—
woven of strength, of longing,
of endless roads beneath the sacred moon.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/24/2025

The Song of the Blue Bird
Golden leaves whisper in circles of fire,
their edges kissed by the memory of sun.
He stands within their glow—
a warrior, a dreamer,
his silence brighter than thunder.

Upon his hand rests the sky reborn:
a bird of sapphire flame,
its wings a promise,
its voice the thin thread
between earth and spirit.

Feathers crown his hair,
stones and shells guard his heart,
yet it is the song of the small one—
not the spear, not the storm—
that bends the air around him.

The world pauses.
The leaves do not fall.
And for one breath,
all creation listens
to the fragile power of peace.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/24/2025

Legend of the Two-Faced Warrior
Long ago, when the world was still young, the people say the Sky and the Earth quarreled.
The Sky demanded fire and light to rule forever.
The Earth asked for silence and shadow, so the seeds might dream beneath her soil.

From their struggle was born a child—
a warrior with a face divided.
On one side burned the red of dawn, fierce and unyielding.
On the other lay the black of night, deep as the grave, patient as stone.

The elders called him Keeper of Balance.
Where he walked, rivers did not dry, nor did forests choke with darkness.
The eagle lent him its feathers for vision,
the wolf its breath for courage,
and the ancestors gave him the drumbeat of the heart,
so he would never forget the circle he guarded.

They say he still walks between worlds—
half in the land of the living,
half in the land of spirits.
And when the wind rattles the lodge at night,
or the fire cracks with sudden sparks,
it is him, reminding us:

“Without night, the day has no meaning.
Without shadow, the fire has no shape.
And without both, the people cannot endure.”
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

"When the Wolves Run the Sky"
Black Wolf swallows the burning Sun,
fangs crowned in fire,
eyes smoldering with the heat of creation.

White Wolf cradles the cold Moon,
teeth kissed by silver light,
gaze calm as snow over a sleeping forest.

They run the rim of the heavens,
their paws drumming against the skin of night,
chasing, turning, weaving the breath of day into the bones of darkness.

When their muzzles meet,
the sky holds its breath —
a golden eclipse trembling in the jaws of shadow,
a silver eclipse pulsing in the mouth of winter.

The elders say their race is the heartbeat of the world,
that without them, the Sun would wander lost,
and the Moon would drown in the dark.

So look up, child of the earth,
and see their trail written in the stars,
two spirits forever circling,
carrying time in their teeth.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

Daughter of the Bear
The mountain carved her silence
into the curve of her cheek,
the river brushed its song
across her breath.

Behind her, the bear—
guardian of thunder,
keeper of deep roots—
breathes as one with her heart.

Her eyes hold dusk and fire,
painted with tears of sky,
each feather at her shoulder
a promise of flight,
each scar upon her skin
a story of survival.

She walks where shadow meets dawn,
where the drumbeat of the earth
finds its echo in her blood.

Not woman alone,
not spirit alone—
but the bridge between both,
standing unshaken,
as the world bows
to her quiet strength.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

Raven and the Sun: A Song of the Tsimshian
Before the rivers carved the stone,
Before the cedar sang the wind,
The world lay silent, cold and dark,
Till Raven rose with cunning grin.

With wings of black, with eyes of flame,
He sought the box where the Sun was kept.
A trickster’s laugh, a daring flight—
He stole the light where shadows slept.

He broke the night, he freed the stars,
He carried fire within his beak.
The people gathered, drums like thunder,
Their voices rose, the earth could speak.

“Raven, sly yet true in gift,
The dawn you bring renews the land.
The salmon run, the children laugh,
The Sun now warms the people’s hands.”

Still by the sea, where cedars stand,
The tale is drummed in sacred song.
Raven’s gift, the flame of life,
To all the people, it belongs.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

"Turtle Who Holds the Sky"
Before the mountains had names and before the rivers knew their paths,
there was only water, endless and deep,
and above it — the black silence of a sleeping sky.

From that stillness, Turtle rose.
Her shell was the pattern of eternity,
etched with the memory of stars that had not yet been born.
With each stroke of her ancient limbs,
she stirred the waters and awakened the winds.

The Sun bent low and whispered:
"Will you bear the weight of the world?"
And Turtle, with the slow wisdom of ages, replied:
"I will carry it as long as rivers flow and children laugh."

So the Sky placed its lights upon her back —
the moon nestled near her heart,
the stars scattered across her shell like seeds,
and the sun crowned her brow in gold.

As she swam through the great dark,
her breath became clouds,
her heartbeats became the drum of creation.
From her back, the earth began to grow —
mountains rising like the bones of giants,
forests spreading like green whispers,
oceans curling around her edges.

And even now, the elders say,
when you lie beneath the open night,
you can feel her moving, slow and steady,
carrying us all through the endless sea of the universe,
while the stars on her shell
watch over our dreams.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

When the Hummingbird Came
She stands where colors bloom like prayers,
braids woven with the midnight sky,
her dress a river of sunlit beads,
each thread singing the names of her ancestors.

From the hush of wildflowers,
a hummingbird arrives—
its wings a storm of emerald fire,
its beak a flute touching
the red horizon of her lips.

Time softens.
The earth leans closer.
In the stillness between heartbeats,
the bird and the woman
share a secret older than language:

That beauty is not in the gold of the dawn,
nor the blaze of the stars,
but in the meeting of two spirits—
one feathered, one human—
who recognize each other as light.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

The Spirit of the Wild Stallion
On the rolling plains,
where wind carries the earth’s old secrets,
he runs—
mane flowing like the breath of the sky.

Not flesh alone,
but the heartbeat of mountains,
the memory of rivers,
the song of pines beneath moonlight.

When thunder walks the open fields,
his hooves strike fire from the ground.
Feathers in his mane
hold the whispers of ancestors.

Call his name in the wilderness—
and the wind will rise.
Through shadowed forests,
he will lead you home,
as the stars follow his path.

He is strength without chains,
guidance without words,
the bond between people and the living earth.
Forever running,
forever free.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/23/2025

Moonlit Journey
She was born from the dust of sacred hills,
With the wind in her hair and fire in her will.
Never to be caged, never to be tamed —
She carries the names her grandmothers claimed.

The earth is her heartbeat, the sky is her call;
She walks through the silence, she rises from fall.
They tried to bind her with thread and chain,
Yet she sang through sorrow, she danced through pain.

They told her to kneel, to dim her flame,
To wear small shoes and forget her name.
But she knows the rivers that carve through stone,
And she feels the drumbeat that leads her home.

She dreams not of palaces born of greed,
But of open plains where her soul can breathe.
She dreams of daughters who will not hide,
Who speak with thunder and stand with pride.

With feathers in hair and stars in her eyes,
She walks the path where the eagle flies.
Not free in body, yet free in truth —
A woman of ancestors, of strength, of roots.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

09/22/2025

Spirit Keeper
Her hair like rivers in moonlight flow,
carrying whispers from long ago.
Feathers that dance on her shoulders lie,
each one a prayer that can touch the sky.

She walks in silence, the mountains near,
yet thunders within for the world to hear.
The earth remembers the path she treads,
the sky bends low where her spirit spreads.

A dreamcatcher warm against her chest,
gathers the hopes where the shadows rest.
She weaves a circle, both strong and wide,
where dawn walks in with the light as guide.

Through fires of trial, through winds that cry,
her soul stands tall and will not die.
The eagle knows her, the wolf runs near—
she walks with the ones her heart holds dear.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

Laughing Brook Stream

09/24/2025

09/24/2025

09/24/2025

09/24/2025

09/23/2025

09/23/2025

09/23/2025

09/23/2025

09/23/2025

09/23/2025

09/23/2025

09/22/2025

Address

Website

Alerts

Shortcuts

Share

Category

Listing takedown request