Wednesday Night Camp Fire Story
Story Night Opening Prayer
by Kicking Bear
O Great Mystery
We offer sacred tsola in thanks for this time together.
We give you thanks for the gift life, that we may walk in a way that honors the ancestors.
We give thanks for our respected elder Usdi Inoli and for the wisdom she will share this night.
We ask that you guide her tongue and heart as she
shares her wisdom with us.
We ask that you open our minds, hearts, and spirits
to receive these words that they may help keep us
in balance and harmony.
may we walk with honor and love.
T
The Bow of Life
by Barbrie777
Osiyo, dtohitsu syvnoyi (hello how is everyone)
I do not have enough hours in the day to say thanks for all the many blessings.
I do not have enough hours in the day to say thanks for all the many blessings.
WADO Gvlvquodi saquu for the osda opening prayer.
We are going to take a trip back in time. Is everyone comfortable? I will not keep you too long.
I feel all you now, every hair on my body is standing up, my goosebumps have goosebumps.
I live in the North Valley of Albuquerque by the Rio Grande. Alameda is the name of the village.
When the highway was made into 4 lanes, cultural resources were done.
Turns out proof of circa 800AD right here. Where my house sits was the edge of a marketplace of sorts.
SO fitting that many spirits visit here.
I wish to take you back to a beautiful September morning, the year is l994, the day Sep 26.
Alameda Elementary School is right up the street and I did Art In the Schools for 7 years there.
When the wind blows, we continue to find endless pottery shards.
Many are from cooking pot, the black with mica pieces, some white (the oldest) and reds and browns.
This September morning was especially beautiful and I started up my old Dodge pickup to gather locust limbs the children to make dreamcatchers. They grow about 4 feet high and the lower 2 feet have no leaves, so they are perfect. As I asked permission to harvest them, the lights on the water intensified and a most beautiful presence came around me.
As I gathered just the right limbs, words began coming into my mind, into my SOUL.
Not, to set the record straight, I do not “hear voices”. Rather communication outside of my own mind.
Many of you know what I mean, recognizing your thoughts from thoughts coming to you?
As I finished, I gifted tobacco for the gifts I was given and returned home, these words going thru my entire being.
I was not allowed to record the words until they were etched into my mind, into my SOUL.
I was not allowed to record the words until they were etched into my mind, into my SOUL.
I wish to share these words with you. It appears to be a poem and it appears to be incomplete at this time. It is titled:
THE BOW OF LIFE
And, when the winds of war
Blow No More
And, when the bow of war
Shoots no more
Blow No More
And, when the bow of war
Shoots no more
Yes, it will live flat, quiet and still
On the river bank, on the canyon floor
From whence it came to war no more
On the river bank, on the canyon floor
From whence it came to war no more
And there is more
Sparrows will fly high
And Sister Spider
Will come forth once more
Sparrows will fly high
And Sister Spider
Will come forth once more
She will weave her web
Raise her young on that Bow of War
Raise her young on that Bow of War
Life is the Bow
You are the Arrow
Signed:
THE ANCIENT ONES
Brie, we so enjoyed your original story and poem! Brie is a talented artists whose work is not only sold on Etsy, but at many places around New Mexico and even at the Smithsonian!
Here is sample of one of her Spirit People.