Isaiah
Chapter 37
VS 24-38

By thy servants hast thou reproached the Lord, and hast said, By the multitude of my chariots am I come up to the height of the mountains, to the sides of Lebanon; and I will cut down the tall cedars thereof, and the choice fir trees thereof: and I will enter into the height of his border, and the forest of his Carmel.

25 I have digged, and drunk water; and with the sole of my feet have I dried up all the rivers of the besieged places.

26 Hast thou not heard long ago, how I have done it; and of ancient times, that I have formed it? now have I brought it to pass, that thou shouldest be to lay waste defenced cities into ruinous heaps.

27 Therefore their inhabitants were of small power, they were dismayed and confounded: they were as the grass of the field, and as the green herb, as the grass on the housetops, and as corn blasted before it be grown up.

28 But I know thy abode, and thy going out, and thy coming in, and thy rage against me.

29 Because thy rage against me, and thy tumult, is come up into mine ears, therefore will I put my hook in thy nose, and my bridle in thy lips, and I will turn thee back by the way by which thou camest.

30 And this shall be a sign unto thee, Ye shall eat this year such as groweth of itself; and the second year that which springeth of the same: and in the third year sow ye, and reap, and plant vineyards, and eat the fruit thereof.

31 And the remnant that is escaped of the house of Judah shall again take root downward, and bear fruit upward:

32 For out of Jerusalem shall go forth a remnant, and they that escape out of mount Zion: the zeal of the LORD of hosts shall do this.

33 Therefore thus saith the LORD concerning the king of Assyria, He shall not come into this city, nor shoot an arrow there, nor come before it with shields, nor cast a bank against it.

34 By the way that he came, by the same shall he return, and shall not come into this city, saith the LORD.

35 For I will defend this city to save it for mine own sake, and for my servant David's sake.

36 Then the angel of the LORD went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians a hundred and fourscore and five thousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses.

37 So Sennacherib king of Assyria departed, and went and returned, and dwelt at Nineveh.

38 And it came to pass, as he was worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god, that Adrammelech and Sharezer his sons smote him with the sword; and they escaped into the land of Armenia: and Esarhaddon his son reigned in his stead.

Isaiah
Chapter 29

1 Woe to Ariel, to Ariel, the city where David dwelt! add ye year to year; let them kill sacrifices.

2 Yet I will distress Ariel, and there shall be heaviness and sorrow: and it shall be unto me as Ariel.

3 And I will camp against thee round about, and will lay siege against thee with a mount, and I will raise forts against thee.

4 And thou shalt be brought down, and shalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall be low out of the dust, and thy voice shall be, as of one that hath a familiar spirit, out of the ground, and thy speech shall whisper out of the dust.

5 Moreover the multitude of thy strangers shall be like small dust, and the multitude of the terrible ones shall be as chaff that passeth away: yea, it shall be at an instant suddenly.

6 Thou shalt be visited of the LORD of hosts with thunder, and with earthquake, and great noise, with storm and tempest, and the flame of devouring fire.

7 And the multitude of all the nations that fight against Ariel, even all that fight against her and her munition, and that distress her, shall be as a dream of a night vision.

8 It shall even be as when an hungry man dreameth, and, behold, he eateth; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty: or as when a thirsty man dreameth, and, behold, he drinketh; but he awaketh, and, behold, he is faint, and his soul hath appetite: so shall the multitude of all the nations be, that fight against mount Zion.

9 Stay yourselves, and wonder; cry ye out, and cry: they are drunken, but not with wine; they stagger, but not with strong drink.

10 For the LORD hath poured out upon you the spirit of deep sleep, and hath closed your eyes: the prophets and your rulers, the seers hath he covered.

11 And the vision of all is become unto you as the words of a book that is sealed, which men deliver to one that is learned, saying, Read this, I pray thee: and he saith, I cannot; for it is sealed:

12 And the book is delivered to him that is not learned, saying, Read this, I pray thee: and he saith, I am not learned.

13 Wherefore the Lord said, Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men:

14 Therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvellous work among this people, even a marvellous work and a wonder: for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid.

15 Woe unto them that seek deep to hide their counsel from the LORD, and their works are in the dark, and they say, Who seeth us? and who knoweth us?

16 Surely your turning of things upside down shall be esteemed as the potter's clay: for shall the work say of him that made it, He made me not? or shall the thing framed say of him that framed it, He had no understanding?

17 Is it not yet a very little while, and Lebanon shall be turned into a fruitful field, and the fruitful field shall be esteemed as a forest?

18 And in that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book, and the eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity, and out of darkness.

19 The meek also shall increase their joy in the LORD, and the poor among men shall rejoice in the Holy One of Israel.

20 For the terrible one is brought to nought, and the scorner is consumed, and all that watch for iniquity are cut off:

21 That make a man an offender for a word, and lay a snare for him that reproveth in the gate, and turn aside the just for a thing of nought.

22 Therefore thus saith the LORD, who redeemed Abraham, concerning the house of Jacob, Jacob shall not now be ashamed, neither shall his face now wax pale.

23 But when he seeth his children, the work of mine hands, in the midst of him, they shall sanctify my name, and sanctify the Holy One of Jacob, and shall fear the God of Israel.

24 They also that erred in spirit shall come to understanding, and they that murmured shall learn doctrine.

Isaiah
Chapter 21

1 The burden of the desert of the sea. As whirlwinds in the south pass through; so it cometh from the desert, from a terrible land.

2 A grievous vision is declared unto me; the treacherous dealer dealeth treacherously, and the spoiler spoileth. Go up, O Elam: besiege, O Media; all the sighing thereof have I made to cease.

3 Therefore are my loins filled with pain: pangs have taken hold upon me, as the pangs of a woman that travaileth: I was bowed down at the hearing of it; I was dismayed at the seeing of it.

4 My heart panted, fearfulness affrighted me: the night of my pleasure hath he turned into fear unto me.

5 Prepare the table, watch in the watchtower, eat, drink: arise, ye princes, and anoint the shield.

6 For thus hath the Lord said unto me, Go, set a watchman, let him declare what he seeth.

7 And he saw a chariot with a couple of horsemen, a chariot of asses, and a chariot of camels; and he hearkened diligently with much heed:

8 And he cried, A lion: My lord, I stand continually upon the watchtower in the daytime, and I am set in my ward whole nights:

9 And, behold, here cometh a chariot of men, with a couple of horsemen. And he answered and said, Babylon is fallen, is fallen; and all the graven images of her gods he hath broken unto the ground.

10 O my threshing, and the corn of my floor: that which I have heard of the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, have I declared unto you.

11 The burden of Dumah. He calleth to me out of Seir, Watchman, what of the night? Watchman, what of the night?

12 The watchman said, The morning cometh, and also the night: if ye will enquire, enquire ye: return, come.

13 The burden upon Arabia. In the forest in Arabia shall ye lodge, O ye travelling companies of Dedanim.

14 The inhabitants of the land of Tema brought water to him that was thirsty, they prevented with their bread him that fled.

15 For they fled from the swords, from the drawn sword, and from the bent bow, and from the grievousness of war.

16 For thus hath the Lord said unto me, Within a year, according to the years of an hireling, and all the glory of Kedar shall fail:

17 And the residue of the number of archers, the mighty men of the children of Kedar, shall be diminished: for the LORD God of Israel hath spoken it.

Isaiah
Chapter 9

1 Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her vexation, when at the first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, and afterward did more grievously afflict her by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the nations.

2 The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.

3 Thou hast multiplied the nation, and not increased the joy: they joy before thee according to the joy in harvest, and as men rejoice when they divide the spoil.

4 For thou hast broken the yoke of his burden, and the staff of his shoulder, the rod of his oppressor, as in the day of Midian.

5 For every battle of the warrior is with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood; but this shall be with burning and fuel of fire.

6 For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.

7 Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will perform this.

8 The Lord sent a word into Jacob, and it hath lighted upon Israel.

9 And all the people shall know, even Ephraim and the inhabitant of Samaria, that say in the pride and stoutness of heart,

10 The bricks are fallen down, but we will build with hewn stones: the sycomores are cut down, but we will change them into cedars.

11 Therefore the LORD shall set up the adversaries of Rezin against him, and join his enemies together;

12 The Syrians before, and the Philistines behind; and they shall devour Israel with open mouth. For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still.

13 For the people turneth not unto him that smiteth them, neither do they seek the LORD of hosts.

14 Therefore the LORD will cut off from Israel head and tail, branch and rush, in one day.

15 The ancient and honourable, he is the head; and the prophet that teacheth lies, he is the tail.

16 For the leaders of this people cause them to err; and they that are led of them are destroyed.

17 Therefore the Lord shall have no joy in their young men, neither shall have mercy on their fatherless and widows: for every one is an hypocrite and an evildoer, and every mouth speaketh folly. For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still.

18 For wickedness burneth as the fire: it shall devour the briers and thorns, and shall kindle in the thickets of the forest, and they shall mount up like the lifting up of smoke.

19 Through the wrath of the LORD of hosts is the land darkened, and the people shall be as the fuel of the fire: no man shall spare his brother.

20 And he shall snatch on the right hand, and be hungry; and he shall eat on the left hand, and they shall not be satisfied: they shall eat every man the flesh of his own arm:

21 Manasseh, Ephraim; and Ephraim, Manasseh: and they together shall be against Judah. For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still.

The Lesson of Soft Things

They stand in the hush
where childhood and womanhood shake hands,
learning that the smallest gifts—
a petal, a wingbeat, a breath—
can carry more truth
than a thousand shouting winters.

No elder speaks.
Yet the teaching is clear:
Gentleness is not weakness.
It is a seed with the memory of forests
already written inside it.

The world will ask them to be stoned,
but the old spirits smile,
for they know—
those who master tenderness
can bend mountains
without ever raising a fist.

Seems like these females don’t take no crap from no one.
https://www.livescience.com/animals/land-mammals/a-forest-with-bonobos-has-never-been-so-quiet-most-extreme-case-of-violence-in-hippie-species-recorded-with-females-ganging-up-on-male-in-unprecedented-attack?utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pushly&utm_campaign=All%20Push%20Subscribers

Spirit of the Dying Sun

It stands - unmoving,
like a spell pressed into the earth.
Antlers stretch like ancient branches,
cradling the burning sun behind.

Not a deer
but the memory of forests,
the whispered prayer of ancestors,
the heartbeat of stone.

That red glow
not just sunset,
but a wound from a thousand years,
a fire from a dream that never died.

Its eyes
not looking at us,
but through us,
toward the spirits still walking
in the wind of forgotten seasons.

Serin Alar

🖊Poem: Piahn

Where the White Wolf Rests

Beneath the thick leaves,
She meets the white wolf
in a place where
Fear has no voice.

Their foreheads touch—
a vow spoken
without sound,
yet understood by
every trembling thing in the forest.

He trusts her stillness;
She trusts his wild.
Together they form
a quiet shelter
for all the wanderers
who carry wounds
invisible to the eye.

For loyalty, this pure
does not need words—
only presence
and the promise
to never walk alone.

Author and Artist is Elvis Becker

Keeper of Soft Footsteps

She stands where dusk drinks the last fire of the sun.
braids heavy with stories, robe painted in the colors of dawn.
A fawn rests in her arms—
new life against ancient heartbeat.

Around them, dragonflies trace prayers in the air.
and the forest leans in to listen.
No words spoken, yet every spirit knows:
Gentleness is a warrior’s first medicine.

In her silence, the earth remembers
that love is not loud,
it is steady—
a quiet promise carried
in every soft hoofprint of tomorrow.

Come to Me, When the Forest Sleeps

Come to me,
when the forest no longer breathes,
when the rivers forget their names,
and the wind no longer remembers your song.

Do not fear, my brother of the moonlight,
For my fire still burns
a small flame against the dark,
waiting for your shadow to return.

Lay your head upon my knees.
I will sing you the old songs.
the ones our ancestors wove
from the breath of dawn and the cry of wolves.

No hunter will touch you here.
No sorrow will chase your spirit.
Here, under Grandmother Moon,
You are home again.

Art by Serin Alar

Whispers of the Sky and Earth

High above the mountain crest,
Eagle soars where spirits rest.
Eyes of wisdom, vast and wide,
Guiding the people, the river, the tide.

Beneath the moon, in forest deep,
Wolf’s song stirs where shadows sleep.
A call of loyalty, fierce and true,
Binding the tribe like morning dew.

Sky and earth, a sacred thread,
Through eagle’s flight and wolf’s tread.
Together they guard, together they roam,
Two spirits united, one eternal home.

Mother Bear’s Promise

Come closer, little one,
rest your nose against mine.
I am the warmth in the cave,
the heartbeat beneath the pines.

Your paws are small,
but they carry the blood of rivers,
the strength of mountains,
the memory of stars.

When you stumble,
I will steady you.
When you hunger,
I will share the roots of my spirit,
the honey of my soul.

The winds will call your name,
The earth will guide your steps,
The Great Spirit watches above,
But it is my shadow
that will shelter you first.

I give you my courage,
I give you my breath,
and as long as my spirit lingers
in the song of the forest—
You will never be alone.

Serin Alar

The Woman Who Speaks to the Moon

She stands where silence meets the sky,
draped in the breath of midnight hues.
The water holds her secret shape,
a mirror of what once was true.
Her shawl—woven with the hands of time—
glows faintly like a prayer reborn.
Each thread remembers songs of earth,
each bead, the echo of the dawn.
The moon leans close to hear her heart,
Its silver tears fall on the lake.
Between her and the trembling stars,
the old ones stir, the spirits wake.
She does not speak in mortal tongue,
yet mountains listen when she dreams.
For she is keeper of the still,
and through her, night remembers gleam.
In her shadow, the world grows quiet—
The forest bows, the rivers sigh.
For she is not just a woman standing,
but memory walking through the sky.

Poem and Painting by Elvis Becker

Mama Bear’s Message

Little ones, my cubs so dear,
Gather close and always hear:
Love each other, hand in hand,
Share your hearts across the land.

The forest thrives when spirits care,
When kindness lingers in the air.
Give your strength, your joy, your song,
Together, you will grow up strong.

Remember this, wherever you go,
The seeds of love will always grow.
For nothing shines, both near and far,
Like the bond of who you are.

Art by Serin Alar

The Bear and the Dragonfly

The bear does not envy the dragonfly’s wings,
And the dragonfly does not tremble before the bear’s strength.
They meet -
in the still pool of a summer dusk -
and know:
Power and gentleness can share the same breath.

The bear holds the forest’s weight,
the dragonfly carries the light between raindrops.
Yet both shimmer
in the reflection of the same sun.

Neither commands.
Neither yields.
They simply exist -
each a prayer, the other completes.

We - humans -
measure too much.
We forget the language of balance.
But the bear and the dragonfly
still remember.
In their silence,
The wild is whole again.

(Art by Serin Alar)

The Girl of the Sacred Forest

From the depths of the sacred woods,
Where the whispers of the ancients breathe,
She steps with the grace of the wind,
Her feathers glowing in the moon's light,
A spirit born from the soil of the earth,
Her soul, a dance of flames and light.

Her eyes reflect the stars above,
Her heart beats to the rhythm of the land,
She is the fire that burns within the trees,
A force of nature, wild and free.
In the silence of the night,
Her spirit sings of ancient times,
A song of strength, of life, of love,
From the sacred forest, she arrives.

Serin Alar

Breath of Mother Earth

The girl lifts her face,
welcoming the pure breeze,
fragrance of flowers mingling with birdsong,
her heart beating gently with the rhythm of the earth.

Mother Earth extends unseen arms,
embracing each breath, each strand of drifting hair.
She listens to the whispers of streams,
to the forest calling from a thousand years past.

Each inhale — a gift of strength,
Each exhale — a prayer of gratitude.
She smiles.
as if she has become part of the soil,
part of the sky,
eternal, free.

Serin Alar

Do Not Fear, Brother Bear

Do not fear.
Brother of the Forest,
Your breath is the breath of mountains.
Your heart beats with the rivers.

I kneel before you.
palms open to the moon,
to say:
You are not alone.

When storms rise
and the sky cracks with thunder,
I will walk beside you.
When silence falls
and the night softens,
My spirit will rest near yours.

Do not fear the world’s sharp winds—
My song will be your shelter.
my fire, your warmth.

Whether in shadow
or in sunlight’s gentle hands,
We are bound—
two spirits,
one promise:
I will be here.

Velin Rael

The Canoe of Our Ancestors

Upon the river’s crimson glow,
Two spirits drift where soft winds blow.
Their braids hold whispers, old and true,
Of forest songs and skies of blue.

The water lilies bloom with grace,
Like elders’ prayers in sacred space.
The fire of sunset paints the air,
A living bond, a fervent prayer.

The canoe they ride is more than wood,
It carries blood, it carries good.
For every paddle stroke they take,
The earth and sky their vows awake.

O People strong, O hearts that stay,
The roots of Native never sway.
For love and land forever meet,
Where river’s song and spirit greet.
.
.Artist and the storyteller: Solis Hue

Wings of Prayer

Within the shape of human form,
butterfly wings unfold like flames of color,
embracing the crimson sky
with the gentle pulse of a soul.

Hands pressed in quiet prayer,
light rises like a sacred spring—
calling rain to the grasslands,
calling wind to the forests,
calling peace to the earth
that longs to heal again.

The butterfly is me,
the human is me—
one body, one spirit,
woven in eternal rhythm.

O Mother Earth,
Receive these wings as gratitude,
Receive this breath as a bridge,
So generations yet to come
may live in the light,
and in peace.

Serin Alar

Whisperwing, the Spirit of Night Blooms

Long ago, when the Earth was young and the stars were still learning to dance, there lived a guardian spirit named Whisperwing, a sacred night butterfly born of moonlight and flower dreams. Her wings shimmered with the glow of dusk, painted in deep blues and violets—colors only seen in the quietest part of night.

Whisperwing was created by Lunoma, the Moon Maiden, to carry messages between the spirit world and the dreams of the living. She fluttered through midnight meadows and across sleeping forests, her wings stirring wind that whispered secrets into flowers, guiding lost souls home.

Every petal she touched would bloom with sacred light, and every shadow she passed through would remember her path. The stars watched her in awe, calling her "The Silent Flame", for she burned with no fire, but illuminated hearts.

It was said that if you saw Whisperwing in your dreams, your soul was being chosen—for healing, for transformation, or for a journey. Elders taught that when the crescent moon rose high and the air smelled of wild lavender, you must leave a bowl of water and flowers by your door. If Whisperwing passed, the petals would float, and a new path would open in your life by morning.

To this day, her legend lives on. Many Native dreamweavers still embroider her wings onto their blankets and sing to her under starlit skies:

"Fly, Whisperwing, through sky and root,
Bearer of truth on violet flute.
Where moonlight dances, there you roam,
Guide our spirit gently home."

And so she flies—forever between the veil of night and bloom, unseen, yet always felt.

#nativeamericanwisdom

Whispers Beneath the Moon

In a meadow where the wildflowers glowed blue beneath the light of the full moon, two sisters stood side by side, their dark hair flowing like rivers of night. They were wrapped in sacred robes woven by their grandmother, stitched with strands of spirit and sky.

Their names were Taya and Suni, daughters of the Moonwatcher Clan, known for their wisdom in reading the stars and listening to the whispers of the land. Tonight was no ordinary night. It was the Night of Remembering, when the veil between the past and present grew thin and the voices of the ancestors could be heard in the rustle of pine and the shimmer of stardust.

As they gazed at the glowing moon, Taya whispered, “Can you hear them, Suni?”

The younger sister nodded slowly. “They are singing.”

The sky above swirled in purples and blues, the stars glittering like ancient eyes watching over them. A faint melody filled the air—not with instruments, but with memory. It was the song their mother used to sing at bedtime, the one passed down for generations. A lullaby of healing, of journeys across forests, of waiting under the moon for signs from the Great Spirit.

Taya closed her eyes and placed a hand over her heart. “They are guiding us,” she said softly. “We are not alone.”

Behind them, the forest stood like guardians, tall and silent. The sisters knew that tomorrow would bring challenges. The world outside their homeland was changing, forgetting, moving too fast. But here—beneath the moon—they remembered who they were.

Daughters of the Earth. Carriers of old songs. Watchers of the sky.

And in that sacred moment, the night sky pulsed with color, the stars danced a little brighter, and the spirits smiled—knowing that the story would live on through these two young souls.

#nativeamericanwisdom

Whispers of the Wolf Spirit

As the sun sank into the cradle of the mountains, fire-kissing the lake with its final breath, a woman stood in stillness by the shore. Her name was Nayeli—“I love you” in the old tongue—and she was known as the Keeper of Echoes.

She wore robes etched with birds of the sky and dreams of the forest. Her heartbeat moved in rhythm with the earth, and her breath rose and fell with the wind. At her side stood the wolf—silent, fierce, eternal. His name was Shunkaha, the Spirit Who Walks Between.

Nayeli was born under a moon that wept rain and stars, a sign that she would speak not only with people but with the wild. From a young age, animals came to her like old friends returning home. The hawk circled above her. The deer bowed before her. And the wolf... the wolf never left her side.

It was said her voice could calm storms, and that when she closed her eyes at dusk, she listened to the voices of her ancestors through the howls of the pack. She did not command the wolf. She listened. She did not rule the wild. She walked with it.

One day, a drought came—drying rivers, silencing birdsong, cracking the land’s memory. While many prayed, Nayeli acted. With Shunkaha at her side, she followed the old canoe trails into forgotten forest paths. There, she sang the sacred songs—songs her grandmother once whispered over firelight.

And the land listened.

The rains returned. The lakes filled. The trees bowed low with new leaves. And on nights like this, when the sun melts into water and wolves stand guard at the edge of dreams, the elders smile and say:

“Nayeli walks with the wolf still. And in her silence, the world remembers how to breathe.”

#nativeamericanwisdom