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The Poetic Word

Six Nations Territory

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Being in Six Nations felt like…
Home!
The sacred fire revived memories that were once thought gone.

Elders speaking wisdom
While sweet grass and sage
Cover the room.

Healing from cedar foot baths
Got stories coming out
From the woods

Being in Six Nations
You can taste the medicine from
Strawberry juice
The sweetness of slowly learning
The Nations by name
And opening ceremonies
Without having the elders rush
Like how some institutions do!

Words spoken at a pace
That encourages wisdom
Instead of hurried conversations
That we are so used to

Being in Six Nations
You have to be humble
To take everything in

Come with a open heart,
You’ll learn gradually
Actively listening

The teachings
Would have you reflecting,
Appreciating life
In a way
No words can best describe
Unless you first hand experience it.

The nervousness of being a settler
By choice or force
Will always continue to linger,
To keep division
For oppressors to win

But intuitions are strong
Amongst these lands,
A genuine heart
Can break the bondage
We were taught to believe.

The love is from both ends
And the fear of the unknown is also mutual
There are more pure connections hidden,
But the mistrust caused by media and false performances,
Disrupt any built connections with people.

Being in Six Nations
May have you more aware…
In the truth that some outsiders
Don’t want to share.

Being in Six Nations
Taught things
That no third party
Or books,
Or anyone who pretending
Can tell!

The Poetic Word

Meaning of Life

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Photo Credit: Freepik

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Religions warned without faith

In a God, or countless Gods and Goddesses

Would mean an unfulfilling life.

Texts adorned with precious and humble ores

Wrapped in myrrh and olive oil

Filled up the spaces of doubt and restlessness.

Caution a meaningless life

Without something to believe in.

 

To have a purpose is a lifelong

Prescription to perfumes and cosmetic

Treatments.

Filled with spices like aloe and cassia

Represent resurrection,

Life bringing,

Purposes differ like fingerprints and snowflakes.

Not one is the exact same,

Only advice and blueprints will guide

But there is no such thing as a solid solution.

 

The meaning of life is unique to each one’s journey.

No need to brag, or put down,

Trading places is more common like

The fields of dandelions

Taking over the vast plains,

A river that breaks into streams

But eventually meet the mighty ocean

Of life

The same way.

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The Poetic Word

Everlasting Flames-to be Submitted

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Passion being fulfilled

Is like cottonwood fluff burning evenly

Across the land.

 

Not being caught up by any unnecessary

Distractions.

No need to set off forest fires

That don’t need to be provoked,

If there were no blessings

And ceremonies that are ancestral

Wisdom led.

 

Knowing that achievements stack up

Internal minds

Is refreshing to quench the thirst of

Success, like an oasis within a desert.

 

It is a breath of fresh air to the spirit

When all was given so the fruits are

Real,

Unlike wishful thinking without

Determination shown in actions

Is like praying while walking through

Scorching sands.

 

Not distinguishing which water of life

Are mirages

Tempting for a taste,

Deceiving any visions.

 

Even divine messages are lost

If a heart

Stubborn as boulders

Does not listen to the intuitions

Cautioning with series of

Discernments.

A open minded being

Will have doors open.

A humble being that knows their worth

Will succeed without burning any bridges.

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The Poetic Word

Trust In Silence

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

When was the last time

that you sat in silence?

Where every detailed sound

From the whistling wind,

Talking trees,

Busy traffic made of streams,

Tingled the ear drums

Away from manmade machines.

 

When was the last time

Embracing nature gifts

was of great importance?

Spilling secrets

No human mind would comprehend,

Only the wisest ancients

Found deep in the Earth’s crust

Would tell nothing,

No one,

A type of loyalty that no fame and money

Would make it

Turn into a sellout.

 

When was the last interaction

Between skin and sand

Had the body had time to heal itself.

Transferring tensions into the ground

Balancing unwanted weight

Into Mother Nature’s arms.

 

When was the last time

Natural medicinal plants and food

Was replenishing

Detoxing clogged up organs.

Instead of destroying natural remedies,

And claim cures by injecting the body

Will more poison.

 

Relying on money hungry policies.

Bylaws instigating destruction.

When was the last time

Silence was allowed to answer

Mind boggling questions.

Allow silence to discern

To caution on everything around

Only silence will speak the loudest!

Trust in silence.

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