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Indigenous Rhythm Circle Highlighting the beauty, resilience, and contributions of Native American cultures 🧡

Sacred EncounterI stand beneath the full white moon,its light falling like a prayer.Beside me, the white deer waitsnot a...
10/18/2026

Sacred Encounter

I stand beneath the full white moon,
its light falling like a prayer.
Beside me, the white deer waits
not as a beast, but as a blessing.

She looks to the sky,
and the stars answer,
leaving paw prints of light
that drift down between us
like snow made of spirit.

I do not speak,
and yet I am heard.
The earth beneath my feet is soft
it knows my name.
The sky above wraps me
in the voice of my ancestors.

In this dream, there is no fear.
No fire of anger,
no hunger of greed.
Only the hum of life,
and the soft heartbeat of the land.

This is the world I dream of:
where we walk with the deer,
listen to the wind,
and live
in the stillness
of what is sacred.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

She Is Made of River and StoneShe is made of river and stonesoft enough to soothe a wounded bird,strong enough to carry ...
10/18/2026

She Is Made of River and Stone

She is made of river and stone
soft enough to soothe a wounded bird,
strong enough to carry the mountain’s weight
without ever bending.

Her hands plant seeds
in soil her grandmothers bled into.
Her voice - low, steady
knows when to sing,
and when silence is the sharpest blade.

She braids her hair
with stories of fire and frost,
each strand a memory,
each feather a promise
never broken.

The world has tried to take her name,
her land,
her children
but still, she rises,
with moccasins worn thin by prayer
and a spine carved by thunder.

She does not shout.
She does not flee.
She stands
in ceremony, in storm, in sorrow
and becomes the wind
that teaches trees to bend
without breaking.

She is not what the world expected.
She is more.
She is river and stone.
And she remembers.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

The Crystal DragonflyWhen the sun sank into the sacred lake,the elders told me:“Listen to the dragonfly’s wingsfor they ...
10/18/2026

The Crystal Dragonfly

When the sun sank into the sacred lake,
the elders told me:
“Listen to the dragonfly’s wings
for they fly between two worlds.”

I saw her, silent
on the indigo sky,
her body stitched from fragments
of returning souls.

Each shard of glass held a life—
an untold memory,
a song unfinished,
a glimmer of hope still flying.

She doesn’t flee as she moves,
but redraws the sky
for the lost to find their way home.
Dragonfly - messenger of light,
painting wings on water,
etching memories in wind.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

"You Are My Echo"When I look at you, child,I see the small shadow I once castbeneath this same sun.Your hair falls as mi...
10/17/2026

"You Are My Echo"

When I look at you, child,
I see the small shadow I once cast
beneath this same sun.

Your hair falls as mine did,
catching the wind’s gentle pull.
Your hand, small and certain,
holds the world
the way I once held it
with wonder,
with no thought of losing it.

The butterfly rests with you now,
but I remember
when its wings paused in my palm,
and my mother’s eyes
saw herself in me.

So it is with us
each of your steps
is a footprint in my old path,
each of your dreams
a seed from my own sky.

One day,
you will see yourself in another’s eyes,
and know
you have always been
my echo.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

A Promise Between UsLittle bird, so light and free,Rest upon my mighty hand.You are the wind's soft melody,Carried from ...
10/17/2026

A Promise Between Us

Little bird, so light and free,
Rest upon my mighty hand.
You are the wind's soft melody,
Carried from the distant land.

With feathers bright and wings that glide,
You teach me grace and endless flight.
Though our paths are far and wide,
I’ll be your guardian through the night.

Your voice is a whisper of the trees,
In tune with the flowing breeze.
In this vast and sacred space,
We share a bond no one can erase.

I will protect you, small and pure,
Like the mountains standing tall,
Your heart of song, so bright, so sure,
Echoes through the forest’s call.

Together, we rise and fall,
The earth beneath, the stars above,
In every heartbeat, we recall
The endless bond of peace and love.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

"The Eagle's Promise"In the quiet of dawn,I see you standing,the river flowing beside you,your heart as steady as the mo...
10/17/2026

"The Eagle's Promise"

In the quiet of dawn,
I see you standing,
the river flowing beside you,
your heart as steady as the mountains.

I feel the wind,
a whisper in my feathers,
and I rise,
to be your shield in the skies.

Let me soar,
across the heights,
my wings will guard you,
as the sun kisses the earth.

With every beat,
I bring strength and peace,
your path illuminated,
by the spirit of the eagle.

So, walk on with courage,
for I will be there,
in the breeze, in the light,
forever your protector, always by your side.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

Moonlit WhisperShe walks,and the water bends beneath her steps,rippling like soft drums of old stories.Each movement pul...
10/16/2026

Moonlit Whisper

She walks,
and the water bends beneath her steps,
rippling like soft drums of old stories.
Each movement pulls the light from the moon,
scattering it across the surface,
awakening silver wings of butterflies
that rise in quiet reverence.

Her hair flows,
carrying the night wind’s song,
a melody the stars lean closer to hear.
She is not alone, yet she is untouchable,
a sacred presence mirrored in the lake.

The moon leans down to kiss her reflection,
and the world holds its breath.
Even the smallest creatures hush
to watch her passage,
to feel the pulse of her spirit
stirring the heart of the night.

She is the echo of rivers,
the gentle sway of trees,
the quiet power of life itself
a living hymn
that moves in light, in water, in air.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

At the Dawn of FriendshipIn the first morning of the world,the girl walked barefoot on light,and the elk stood still,ant...
10/16/2026

At the Dawn of Friendship

In the first morning of the world,
the girl walked barefoot on light,
and the elk stood still,
antlers holding the sky.

They did not speak with words.
Her breath met his silence,
two hearts learning
the same rhythm of earth.

She braided wind into her hair,
he carried forests on his back.
Together they listened
to rivers being born.

When night fell,
they guarded each other’s dreams
a promise older than fear,
a friendship before names.

(Art by Serin Alar)
🖊️Poem: Piahn

“Wings of the Ancestors”She carries the weight of the sun on her shoulders,the glow of the moon on her backher wings, va...
10/16/2026

“Wings of the Ancestors”

She carries the weight of the sun on her shoulders,
the glow of the moon on her back
her wings, vast as the prairie sky,
painted with the songs of those who came before.

Each feather hums with memory,
each color whispers a name
the echo of drums,
the prayer of rivers,
the breath of buffalo across open plains.

She walks not alone,
but with the spirits who carved stories into the wind.
They rise with her heartbeat,
they rest in the curve of her shadow.

She is the daughter of fire and dust,
the keeper of languages unspoken yet alive.
And when she spreads her wings,
the earth remembers
and the people live again.

(Art by Serin Alar)
🖊️Poem: Piahn

A Dream Beneath the Silent MoonShe rests upon the white horse,beneath a sky painted with whispers,where the moon watches...
10/15/2026

A Dream Beneath the Silent Moon

She rests upon the white horse,
beneath a sky painted with whispers,
where the moon watches quietly
over the sleeping mountains.

The wind carries her dreams,
through valleys of forgotten songs,
through rivers that remember
the footsteps of her ancestors.

Her eyes are closed,
but her spirit is awake
walking through fields of stars,
listening to the voices
hidden within the earth.

The horse moves like a gentle river,
carrying her beyond time,
beyond sorrow,
beyond the places where her heart
once felt alone.

In this dream,
the mountains breathe with her,
the moon holds her memories,
and the wind sings softly
of love that never disappears.

She is not lost.
She is returning
to the land,
to the spirits,
to the quiet song within her soul.

And when morning comes,
she will awaken with peace,
carrying a piece of the dream
forever beneath her heart.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

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634 Doodle Hill Road
Glen Burnie, MD

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