The traditional ways and rituals of all of Earth's peoples are kept in containers of poetry, song, and story. It is how we know who we are, where we … - Joy Harjo

Be who you are, even if it kills you.

It will. Over and over again.
Even as you live.

Break my heart, why don't you?

Praise the rain; the seagull dive
The curl of plant, the raven talk — Praise the hurt, the house slack
The stand of trees, the dignity — Praise the dark, the moon cradle
The sky fall, the bear sleep — Praise the mist, the warrior name
The earth eclipse, the fired leap — Praise the backwards, upward sky
The baby cry, the spirit food — Praise canoe, the fish rush
The hole for frog, the upside-down — Praise the day, the cloud cup
The mind flat, forget it all — Praise crazy. Praise sad.
Praise the path on which we're led.
Praise the roads on earth and water.
Praise the eater and the eaten.
Praise beginnings; praise the end.
Praise the song and praise the singer.

Praise the rain; it brings more rain.
Praise the rain; it brings more rain.

I began choking and kicking, fighting for air. My spirit helper spoke precisely: ‘If you fight water, you drown