Healing for Our Nations

Heal, oh ancient lands, Where whispers of ancestors linger, Where rivers remember stories untold, And the earth cradles both sorrow and strength.

Beneath the cedar’s embrace, we seek solace, As drumbeats echo across time, Resonating with the heartbeat of the land, Calling forth healing winds.

The eagle soars, wings outstretched, Carrying prayers to the Great Spirit, Seeking restoration for wounds unseen, For the scars etched into our collective memory.

The fire dances, casting shadows on the tipi, Gathering souls around its warmth, Weaving threads of resilience, Stitching together the fabric of our existence.

The children, oh, the children, Their laughter like medicine, Their eyes reflecting the promise of tomorrow, As they dance on sacred ground.

The elders, keepers of wisdom, Their voices like ancient cedar, Speak truths that echo through valleys, Guiding us toward reconciliation.

The drum, heartbeat of the land, Pounds in unison with our pulse, Calling forth healing songs, Uniting us in rhythm and purpose.

The land, scarred yet resilient, Bears witness to our journey, Its soil absorbing tears and prayers, Roots reaching deep, seeking renewal.

Heal, oh ancient lands, For the spirits of the past and future, For the generations yet unborn, For the weaving of our fractured tapestry.

Divine tears are being shed for you, Heal, oh nations, heal.