The Breath Between Us
In the hush between words,
the drum hums,
our breath rising with pipe smoke,
spiraling to the four directions.
From Black Hills’ crest
to prairie grass rippling,
this breath threads through us,
a cord of heart to heart,
spirit to spirit.
Inhale ancestors’ whispers,
exhale the weight of time.
Every breath a prayer,
every pause a circle,
we are never alone.
Whispers of the Ancestors
Wind carries voices
of those who came before,
echoes riding buffalo herds.
Rustling leaves, curling smoke,
wisdom lingering,
teaching patience, courage, reverence.
I walk with them in circle and vision,
feel their hands on my shoulders,
guiding steps,
stilling fear.
Through ceremony, song, sacred fire
I honor their ways,
keeping their spirit alive
in the living world.
