Moon-Blessed She was born from the dust of sacred hills, With the wind in her hair and fire in her will. Not to be caged, not to be tamed — She carries the names her grandmothers claimed. The earth is her heartbeat, the sky is her call, She walks with the silence, she rises from fall. They tried to bind her with thread and chain, But she sang through sorrow, she danced through pain. They told her to kneel, to hush her flame, To wear small shoes and forget her name. But she knew the rivers that run through stone, And she knew the drumbeat that leads her home. She dreams not of palaces carved from greed, But of open plains where her soul can breathe. She dreams of daughters who will not hide, Who speak with thunder and stand with pride. Feathers in hair, and stars in eyes — She walks the path where the eagle flies. Free not in body, but free in truth, A woman of ancestors, of strength, of roots. 🎨 Serin Alar #nativeamericanwisdom