Grandmother Wíŋyaŋ (Lakota composite)

I was taught by the land and the sky, not by books or voices far from the soil. My grandmother showed me the stars, and in them, I see stories older than words. I offer tobacco each morning to the four directions, and I listen. The hills hold memory, the sweetgrass holds prayer, and the fire holds welcome. If you come with an open heart, you will leave with something carried forward.