First Nations Harmony

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The Hummingbird’s Tale
I am the wind, the sky, the breeze,
A whisper through the flowers and trees.
My wings beat fast, my heart beats light,
I dance from dawn to the fading night.
I’m small, but strong, with wings so fast,
I sip the nectar, I make it last.
Each flower’s kiss, a gift to me,
I fly with grace, wild and free.
I live in moments, fleeting and bright,
A burst of color in the morning light.
I hum my song, a melody true,
A story told in every hue.
Through skies I soar, through fields I roam,
In every beat, I find my home.
So when you see me in the air,
Remember, I am always there.

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Whispers of the Twin Ravens

In the quiet of the snow-laced woods,
Two ravens perch, side by side—
One cloaked in night, one bathed in light,
Eyes deep with stories the wind carries.

They speak in patterns of wing and feather,
A language older than memory,
Telling of balance, shadow, and sun,
Of paths crossed and lives intertwined.

I listen, heart open,
To the hum of ancient spirits,
Learning that even in cold, silent times,
Companionship and wisdom endure.
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View the paintings here: https://nativeblood75.com/voice-beneath-the-deep
“Voice Beneath the Deep”
In the silence where green waters breathe,
a form awakens without beginning—
woven from tide and ancient motion.
Many arms open like forgotten paths of the sea,
touching stone, coral, memory itself,
as if the ocean once learned to think in living shapes.
No shore holds this being,
no name binds its wandering thought—
only currents that remember everything.
Small lives drift at the edge of its presence,
flowers of the deep sway in quiet reverence,
as the world folds and unfolds again.
It is neither creature nor dream,
but the sea’s own reflection of becoming,
slow, infinite, and aware.
And in its endless motion,
the ocean does not speak—
it remembers.