She sees Lake Michigan lapping at the shores of herself. It is a dizzy hole of water and the rich live in tall glass houses at the edge of it. - Joy Harjo

I have forgotten the reason, forgive me. I have forgotten my name in the language I was born to, forgive me.

They speak softly, with kindness. They are quick with humor, and keep an open path. They have been tested with suffering and have responded with wisdom rather than bitterness. They teach by story, images, and songs. And they are respectful to mystery. They continue to remind me that it is best to walk this earthly path with vnektckv, compassion. All I have to do is remember them, and they stand in memory in a kind light.

We make ceremony with words even as our words can lead us to the hells of destruction.