Walid Native American

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Where the Water RestsShe driftsas if the lake has always known her shape.The surface bends,not to let her pass,but to ma...
01/02/2026

Where the Water Rests

She drifts
as if the lake has always known her shape.

The surface bends,
not to let her pass,
but to make room.

Moonlight loosens on the water,
soft and unclaimed,
settling into her feathers
without asking.

Nothing rushes here.
Even time learns to float.

She carries the kind of calm
that does not fix,
does not hold,
only stays long enough
for the heart to breathe again.

When she moves,
ripples widen gently,
then disappear.

No trace.
No lesson.
Only the quiet understanding
that peace can exist
without being named.

And somewhere beneath the surface,
the water keeps that knowing,
patiently,
until it is needed again.

🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

“Song of the Wild Throat”I am the echo that never dies,the silver thread in the night’s weave.My breath is frost,my song...
01/02/2026

“Song of the Wild Throat”
I am the echo that never dies,
the silver thread in the night’s weave.
My breath is frost,
my song is hunger,
my heart beats with the rhythm of untamed rivers.
I run where no boundary stands,
where pawprint becomes prayer,
and every shadow
remembers the first fire.
Do not call me beast.
I am the silence before dawn,
the courage of the pack,
the lone path that still belongs.
When the wind carries my howl,
it is not sorrow
it is the reminder:
your spirit, too,
was born without chains.
🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

“The Raven Who Carried the Forest”Once, when the world forgot to dream,The Raven rose on twilight’s gleam.His wings were...
12/31/2025

“The Raven Who Carried the Forest”

Once, when the world forgot to dream,
The Raven rose on twilight’s gleam.
His wings were carved of root and leaf,
He bore both sorrow — and belief.

He flew where songs had turned to stone,
Through lands where trees stood all alone.
With every beat, he called the air,
To teach the Earth how to repair.

His feathers held the forest’s breath,
The rhythm born of life and death.
And when he cried, the rivers stirred,
The mountains listened — and they heard.

For Raven knows the balance true,
That every end begins anew.
He carries change in midnight’s hue,
And paints the dawn in shades of blue.

So when the wind through branches weaves,
And rustling whispers through the leaves —
Remember him, the dark-winged guide,
Who keeps the living Earth alive.

“Song of the Deep Mother”Beneath the waves where silence breathes,The Whale Spirit hums through ancient seas.Her song is...
12/31/2025

“Song of the Deep Mother”

Beneath the waves where silence breathes,
The Whale Spirit hums through ancient seas.
Her song is older than the stars,
It binds all hearts, no matter how far.

She carries stories carved in tide,
Of love, of loss, of souls that died.
Yet in her voice, the people hear,
A truth that whispers — we are near.

When darkness swallows sea and sky,
Her voice becomes the lullaby.
It tells the Moon to guard the shore,
And heal the hearts that fight no more.

The elders say — “She sings the Earth,
A song of endings and rebirth.”
And every crest, and every foam,
Reminds the soul — the sea’s our home.

𝐖𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝟏,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨'𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 native forever 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.
12/30/2025

𝐖𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝟏,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨'𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 native forever 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.

THE BEAR WHO REMEMBERSIn the quiet dawn,the bear lifts his head—a keeper of storieswoven in earth-brown lines.His spirit...
12/30/2025

THE BEAR WHO REMEMBERS

In the quiet dawn,
the bear lifts his head—
a keeper of stories
woven in earth-brown lines.

His spirit moves
like cedar smoke,
carrying the memory
of those who walked before.

Tracks bloom beneath him,
marking not just a path
but a promise—
that every step is prayer,
every breath a thread
binding life to life.

Flowers open at his sides,
born from courage,
rooted in the teachings
of ancestors who knew
that strength is gentle,
and gentleness is strong.

And so he stands,
a guardian of the old ways,
holding the heart of the land
in the quiet glow
of his enduring spirit.

“Spirit of the Sky and Forest”(Poem inspired by the image of the eagle and wolf under the moon — a reflection of Native ...
12/28/2025

“Spirit of the Sky and Forest”
(Poem inspired by the image of the eagle and wolf under the moon — a reflection of Native American spirit and human kinship with nature)

Beneath the moon’s eternal glow,
The forest hums where spirits flow.
The eagle guards the sacred sky,
While wolf-song echoes low and high.

One sees from heights where stars are born,
One walks the path through roots and thorn.
Together bound by flame and air,
By earth’s old drum, by prayer and care.

They teach the heart what tribes have known—
That man and beast are flesh and bone
Of one great circle, vast and wide,
Where ancestors and spirits guide.

So when the fire paints the night,
And wings and fangs reflect its light,
Remember this: we are the same—
Child of the wild, keeper of flame.

“The Way the Little Blue One Learns to Rise”Before anyone sees her,the damselfly lives in the quiet placesamong drifting...
12/26/2025

“The Way the Little Blue One Learns to Rise”

Before anyone sees her,
the damselfly lives in the quiet places
among drifting leaves,
cool mud,
and the slow pulse of water.

She grows there for a long time,
in a world without sky,
learning patience from the stillness
and resilience from the river’s soft weight.

She doesn’t rush.
She doesn’t sparkle.
She simply keeps living,
even when no one is watching.

When she is ready
not by some sign,
not by a whisper of destiny
just ready in the quiet way small things know
she climbs.
A stem, a stone,
anything that lets her meet the light.

The change happens simply:
her old skin splits,
and she steps out of herself.
No drama,
no thunder.
Just a small creature
making room for new wings.

They dry slowly in the warm air.
She waits.
Then she lifts off
a thin streak of blue
that almost isn’t there.

She spends the rest of her short life
gliding over the same water
that once held her down.
Not to prove anything,
but because she can now.

And maybe that’s the quiet lesson
she leaves behind:

Sometimes you start in the dark.
Sometimes you grow where no one sees.
And one day, without even realizing it,
you rise
lighter than the life you shed.

🙏🙏 You can get the purchase link in the comments under each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I’ll send you the direct product link!

🔥 Bear of the Burning Heart🔥O Bear of Fire,ancestor of mountain flame,you rise where duskbleeds into the trembling pines...
12/25/2025

🔥 Bear of the Burning Heart🔥
O Bear of Fire,
ancestor of mountain flame,
you rise where dusk
bleeds into the trembling pines.
Your fur holds
the swirling stories of the first dawn—
embers shaped into legends,
sparks born from prayers.
Rivers listen
when your spirit passes;
the stones beneath you
remember every step
as if it were thunder.
Teach us, Grandfather,
how to carry our strength
without breaking,
how to burn with purpose
without turning to ash.
In your glowing chest
the old songs live—
the ones that say
we are never alone,
that even in darkness
the heart can blaze a path home.
O Bear,
guide our breath,
steady our spine,
and let your fire
remind us who we are—
children of Earth,
keepers of courage,
walkers of the sacred flame.

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