- Clyde Hall
- Emma Pohipe Dann
- Charles Lawrence
- Bear Boy LaRose
- Reginald and Gladys Laubin
- Corbin Harney
- Interview With White Eagle
- Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address
- Learning From The Elders
- Respecting Indian Tradition
- Tenne Wapp
- About Prayer
- Faith – Prayer – Action
- Gifts of Community
- Engaging Great Mystery
- Giving Back To Spirit
Peace rain down upon the earth
Strong and sweet
Quenching the fires of
Love rise up from the soil
Clean as dew
Touching the breath of a new day
Holy with kisses
Joy wrap arms around this world with
Sisters and brothers
Hugging hard hearts soft
Breaking bitterness, shame & fear
Tears no longer
Kindness whisper loudly in our ears
And deafen weapons to silence.
While anger is still
— Anna Mosby Coleman
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear, who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.
This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
What if my task in life is not to find out my calling, struggle hard, and sell it high. But rather, to slow down, inhabit the gap between my dreams and circumstances with a soft, curious flesh. To improvise a way through the forest of life, to fall in love with another I meet on the trail, share food, share grief, honor what is life-giving with voice and deed. Dip down into the present with skillfulness and awe. Contemplate a little more that I and everyone I love is just passing through this embodied experience. And out of that meditation on brevity, on preciousness, I become a song, a dance, a fierce laughter falling from the trees.
— Carter Beale
Remember who You are
Remember what you Love
Remember what is Sacred
Remember what is True
Remember this day is a Gift
Remember your Path and your Destiny
Remember how you wish to Live
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
translation by Coleman Barks