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Grace
by
biidsis


Spring arrives, fresh and new, the air smells sweet as a baby's sigh.
Sweetgrass pushes through the last of the snow. Refresh yourself in
the new morning sunshine. Young ones of all kinds born and trees
budding, take this chance to begin anew.

Summer blossoms and the air is full with cedar and clover and cotton wood puffs. Stand in the stream and feel it's cool touch, sit among the stones and watch Doe and Fawn drink, the young ones scamper and play as you let the stream wash your spirit clean.

Ahhhh Fall, a time of passing, leaves blazing red and yellow, turning
and returning, home to the earth. Lift your face to the Creator, let
him see your face. Drink in the air fresh as dew on the grasses.
Grandfather Sun warms you as you give your thanks.

Wind howling fierce and speaks of winter, long and lonely. Bear
sleeps, waiting to be reborn. Wolves singing to Grandmother Moon, as
Standing Tribe shake free of their snowy coat. Remember now, it will
begin again and yet again.

This is our Mother and she is Grace. Our Mother stands in Grace.

bangan, biidaaban
(be peaceful, a new day comes)

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