I am a young Lakota Indian warrior. My name is Wind On Face.
I find myself in an ancient forest. One Who Soars, my chestnut horse finds me. I’ve missed him. He shows me he has missed me too. I put my right cheek to his left cheek as I caress his head and ears, nuzzle his nose. We reconnect.
Together, we walk out of the forest to the teepees in the clearing. The first teepee belongs to my family, it’s the largest in the camp. I’m anxious and filled with excitement to see them.
Pulling the teepee entrance flap aside, I enter. No one is inside. The fire burns. I sit. Smoking the pipe, I wait. Now I see the old man sleeping at the back of the teepee. I do not wake him.
A bed of fur calls to me from the right side of the teepee. I go to it, lie down and find sleep. Upon waking, fully rested, I notice the old man still sleeps.
Rising, once again I sit before the fire. The fire burns in the belly of an ancient tree trunk. The roots come to life, show me how strong and alive they are. Branching out in every direction, the roots are many.
Outside now, I stand before another larger fire. The drums play a pounding, rhythmic beat. The children of the tribe join me. We join hands, circling around the fire, moving our feet in unison to the beat of the drums. United, we step towards the fire. We repeatedly blow our breath over the flames before stepping back. The children are now representatives of the many generations of my ancestors.
Christine, arrives on the back of One Who Soars as the old man comes to stand before the fire. He puts on his buckskin pants, his buckskin shirt, the eagle headdress and feathered wings. Christine then knows this old man. He is her Grandfather, one of her Spirit Guides!
Christine’s Grandfather, One Who Sees, hands her a leather pouch. Inside is a gift of silver, a belt buckle. The gift becomes her son. Her son now stands beside me, the Indian warrior and One Who Soars.
I put on my falcon headdress. Christine’s son walks to the fire. He is the hawk and now wears the hawk headdress. We move our feet to the beat of the drums.
I remove a big, rough ruby from my pouch of stones. Holding the ruby in my fist, I pound my heart, blowing over the stone into the fire many times. As we blow into the fire, we forgive, love and thank our ancestors.
We have cleared our ancestor’s karmic trails.
Our roots run deep.
I raise the ruby to the sky many times to thank God for our many gifts.
Our roots run deep.
One Who Soars kneels down to let Christine off his back. She joins her Grandfather, One Who Sees by the fire. He covers her in his winged arms as she cries, overwhelmed by the beautiful conveyance of love. Christine’s son and I join them, we are also covered in One Who Sees protective winged arms.
Our roots run deep.
Christine again mounts One Who Soars, they walk back to the forest with her son. One Who Sees removes his eagle headdress. Removes his feathered wings. Removes his buckskin pants. Removes his buckskin shirt and returns to his teepee. I return to the ancient forest.
Our roots run deep.