ᎠᎹ ᎡᏓᏍᏗᏱ

go to the running water before the birds start to sing in the morning. approaching singing an ancient song I don't understand four times. standing by the water in meditation until the sun shines on the tips of the trees. My meditation uses tobacco. 

One pinch for my mind

One pinch for yours

One for the union of the two and 

One for the power of that union. 

One pinch for the air all around us we breath, a living air, the breath of life. 

One for the water below my feet that connects me to all that came before, the ancient ones. 

One for the ancient white fire, the sacred red coals, behind the sun and within our hearts. 

And One for the earth, the soil and to our mothers. United. 

One pinch to the color blue, the blue veined one intelligent and resourceful as you stand in the north

One for the golden skinned one, the one of wisdom to understand as you stand in the west. 

One to the black skinned one, compassionate and impassioned by life, as you stand in the south. 

One to the rust skinned one, guardian and watcher, as you stand in the east. 

As for myself and you as well we have just become united with all and anything. 

wading into the spring fed stream and facing upstream to the east. mumbling a prayer as the sun peak her crown above the horizon and droning out an invocation to the four corners of the world and to the provider, we have spoken to you and you have spoken. Starting in the east and circling to the north crying out in the four directions. 

When returning to the east singing of the uniting of the heavens and the earth as we have found what we have been searching for. We have become one with the one most up above. 

I am the sun I wash over all below.... Nothing will overcome..... I am washing. I raise the water above my head four times and sing the same song again and again and again raising the water above my heart and crown four times each time. 

Another thanksgiving salutation and saying from the four couriers of the earth they are carrying their very souls, we are lifting them to the first heaven.... Then the second.... Then the third.... Then the fourth, my hands trace the path to the seventh heaven. My words follow and the water is lifted up again and again. When my left hand is at its zenith crying out long and hard till my fingers are numb and my toes hurt and my head spins then in a deep breath whooping. Plunge seven times to the east. 

When walking away, I don't look back. leaving it all behind.