11/22/2025
Perhaps you will find
Deep medicine in the forests everywhere
Carefully crafted long ago
By ancient tools
Of ancient ones
Tree trunks and limbs bent, carved, cut, and burnt
Showing us the way
An old camp here, fresh water there
Stories told through branches
Lashed to the ground to hold their shapes
Prayers of generations transferred into the turns of pines
Listen
They will show us the way
Through the mountains, across the plains, into your own soul
all over the world
Downtown, even
Look around.
Sap lines chipped into spruce, inner bark peeled from Linwood for fiber, cradleboards cut whole from ponderosas, markings made like none other for holy sites
Where spirit is strong
Turned branches speak portals and prophesies
Open your eyes and read the trees.
There is no word for sacred
In the Ojibwe language
It is understood
No need to define
That which everything is