Sundance

Sundance is coming. I can feel the excitement. "Braid your hair young one and say your prayers." says kokum always making sure I braid and pray.

My prayer is this, "Oh Great Father, you who are most holy and reside in all your people, thank you for this time. We are the Red Pheasant First Nations and we are gathering to thank you for all that we have and all that we are. Father let us feel your love as we see the old ones who come to help us remember the ways of our people. Let all that is sacred rejoice for we are sending you a voice. All my relations."

I could hear the wagon groaning and the horses snorting as grandfather pulled the team up to the tent. "Child, get in. The people wait for us. It is time to start the ceremonies."

It is what we do as Prairie Cree. It is the time now and even the oldest one, great Grandmother Maggie, hurried as much as her old bones would let her. We will give thanks and dance and run on soft green grass.

I sit on top the teepee poles and hold onto a large black pot that will swing over a campfire. We are going to Sundance.

Morningstar Sees

Welcome and come with me to sun and sand on the warm white beach in Baja Mexico. My name is Morningstar Woman, a Cree elder walking the Red Road and living the way of the ancient teachings.

We are the ancient ones remembering the forgotten song that whispers to us, "Here is your shelter. Here in the midst of life's journey. Lay your burden down and bring forth the wisdom that lies hidden in your heart."

Grief is the knock, pain is the symptom, this your calling to release and listen, see your destiny written on the sands of time.