TEN MILLION STARS
Inside each raindrop swims the sun.
Inside each flower breathes the moon.
Inside me dwell ten million stars,
One for each of my ancestors:
The elk, the raven, the mouse, the man,
The flower, the coyote, the lion, the fish.
Ten million different stars am I,
But only one spirit, connecting all.
OUR CHILDREN
Our children are like flowers to us.
Each one different.
Each one beautiful.
Each one growing strong with us.
Our children are like stars to us.
Each one sparkles.
Each one moves through the universe.
Each one closer to the heart of us.
Our children are like life to us.
Each one precious.
Each one unpredictable.
Each one having to let go of us.
LOVE
For us, my love,
The faraway moon laughed
And breathed a new song
For all the earth to hear.
For us, my love,
The stars deserted the sky
And became a silver pathway
To our dreams.
For us, my love,
Time made a ladder out of grass
To show us to our happiness.
For us, my love,
Beauty encircled two lives and
Love created one horizon.
THE STORY OF A FLOWER
In the season of wild strawberries
I came from the earth as a flower
High on a hill above my village, with only
The Eagle, the Buffalo, the Bear, and the Butterfly
To watch the petals of my spirit unfold.
The Eagle spoke first. He said:
Sister, you will never have wings like me,
Except in the pathways of your dreams,
Yet you will fly to the top of the sky
Because I give you the Gift of Courage.
The Buffalo spoke next. He said:
Sister, you will never survive a long time like me,
Except on the trail of your memories,
Yet you will see a thousand winters go by
Because I give you the Gift of Endurance.
The Bear spoke next. He said:
Sister, you will never know the secrets
Of the Four-Legged animals, since you are only a flower,
Yet the knowledge of all creatures is yours
Because I give you the Gift of Wisdom.
The Butterfly spoke next. She said:
Sister, you believe you are very important,
Because the creatures have given their gifts to you,
Yet here on this hill you will always be at home
Because I give you the Gift of Humility.
So I have lived for many seasons,
Among the Eagle, the Buffalo, The Bear, and the Butterfly,
Watching the birds go by, speaking to rain and sky.
My colours have been the colors of the rainbow.
My beauty has given joy to all those who see me.
To bloom even when there is no rain
Requires the Courage of the Eagle.
To last through the heavy snows of winter
Requires the Endurance of the Buffalo.
To understand the importance of all seasons
Requires the Wisdom of the Bear.
But to rejoice when my blossoms die
Requires only the Butterfly's Humility.
MOTHER'S WORDS
Why look for answers, my child,
Among the people you meet?
Why believe there is fulfillment
In your narrow life of work?
Why sacrifice the gift of lonliness
To fill up the time with diversion?
Look inside every living thing you find.
Feel he energy of rocks and leaves, hummingbirds
and cactus.
Dwell for a moment in a single blade of grass.
Discover the secret of snowflakes.
In these patterns lie harmony, my child.
In harmony, the universe.
NATIVE BLESSING
Bless these, our circumstances.
Bless the hardship and the pain.
Bless the hunger and the thirst.
Bless the locusts and the drought.
Bless the things which do not turn out right.
Bless those who take all and give not.
In these circumstances, find growth.
In growth, discover clarity.
In clarity, an inner vision.
A Woman's Lesson
A woman's lesson is a simple lesson:
Whatever life asks, answer with love.
A woman's lesson is a wise lesson:
Whenever conflict threatens, go forth in harmony.
A woman's lesson is an enduring lesson:
Whatever is taken from you, give back in generosity.
A woman's lesson is a gradual lesson:
Whenever there is a storm, remain a calm center.
A woman's lesson is a courageous lesson:
Whenever there is despair, sow the seep of hope.
A woman's lesson is a practical lesson:
Wherever there is dryness, go and get the rain.
We come as Clouds
We come as clouds, the Buffalo and the Badger
Of our memory, lingering
on the endless rooftop of the earth.
We come as clouds, the Hummingbird and the Eagle
Of our forgotten youth, rememberd
In the wide daylight of our dreams.
We come as clouds, our ancestors preserved
In one enormous pathway, remaining
Forever in the wind currents of our minds.
We come as clouds, a flowing picture of our history
Circling the earth like a promise,
So that we see ourselves forever in the sky.
Solitude
Do not be afraid to embrace the arms of loneliness
Do not be concerned with the thorns of solitude.
Why worry that you will miss something?
Learn to be at home with yourself
without a hand to hold.
Learn to endure isolation
with only the stars for friends.
Happiness
Comes from understanding
unity.
Love
Arrives on the footprints
of your fears.
Beauty
arises from the ashes of
dispair.
Solitude brings the clarity of still
waters.
Wisdom
completes the circle of
your dreams.
The Old Man Born of Dreams
You must not be afraid to travel
where there are no roads.
You must not give into the darkness
when there is no sign of light.
You must not be afraid to grow wings
when you are tired of the ground.
You must not be afraid to swim
when you are nothing but a stone.
If experience is the child born of risk then
acceptance is the old man born of dreams.
Waiting
From the impoverished strengh of youth
we begin our journey to the otherside of life.
Gathering experience as we go along,
Knowing nothing except that the way is long
and filled with the unexpected.
From the exhausted strengh of old age,
We look back and wonder at the journey.
So long, so hard, yet we have our memory
of beauty in each step we took.
Not the void that follows after.
A long Time I have Lived With You
A long time I have lived with you
And now we must be going
Separately to be together.
Perhaps I shall be the wind
To blur your smooth waters
So that you do not see your face too much.
Perhaps I shall be the star
To guide your uncertain wings
So that you have direction in the night.
Perhaps I shall be the fire
To separate your thoughts
So that you do not give up.
Perhaps I shall be the rain
To open up the earth
So that your seed may fall.
Perhaps I shall be the snow
To let your blossoms sleep
So that you may bloom in spring.
Perhaps I shall be the stream
To play a song on the rock
So that you are not alone.
Perhaps I shall be a new mountain
So that you always have a home.
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... When a feather falls at your feet,
it means you are to travel on wings of curiosity.
Don't be afraid of strange lands
or a language you don't understand.
The feather means freedom.
Why else do you think the bird gave it to you?
What cannot be changed must be accepted,
What is accepted must be endured...
I gave Kyler a signed book of her poetry. I love her poems.
--Riza