#firstnations
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by Michael Plante I asked the Creator for a strand of his hairI asked the crow for a featherI asked the tree of life for a branchI asked the ground for her gems.Songs of peace that I learned so long agopressed my lips at dusk’s request.My decrepit fingers are as old as my heartstill work…
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by Michael Plante I was born with the spirit of a horsethe strength I have can move a mountainand drag a thousand years across a desert with ease;endure a harsh storm brought on by the darknessand run faster than a westerly wind.I have no fearI feel no painmy heart pounds like thunder. The spirit of…
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by Michael Plante I The Creator sat upon a blue stone dotting the darkness with stars and planets.Marvelling at his own creation a thought occurred: Light can exist in the darknessyet darkness cannot exist in light.This conflict shall transform whomever it touches;all of my children shall come to understand resilience;and the depth of their essence…
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by Michael Plante Blue skies aboverolling clouds that look like homefar away from those that lovealone with those that show no mercy. Am I being punished for being born?Is it my skin?Or the color of my eyes?Or am I just a pawn in a game of chess? Is this all they have to offeris this…
