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Wakan-Tanka talks with me through pages of no book, penned by the thoughts of men.

He talks with me through no words, no creed, nor dogma.  He writes to bind me to a clan.  It is a clan which shows itself within the flight of birds that wing their way to lands beyond my sight, in trees that root and take their time to grow to their full height, in flowers whose petals hold such fragrance in their clasp and every single animal, with purpose in its grasp. 

He writes to me in Sun that rises with each Dawn to herald a new start, in moon that holds the ebb and flow of tides within Her hand, in Venus, Jupiter and Mars and the stars that form His heavenly band.  He writes to me in everything that breathes, moves, crawls, flows and stands.

Wakan-Tanka talks to me.

The promise Creator gives to us,

Comes with every new day,

The gift of breath, the gift of life,

Opportunities in a vast array.

How do we count our blessings,

Through the choices life can bring?

Is it through Joyful lessons,

Or the fears to which we cling?

Are we learning to show gratitude,

For the victories over human pain?

By honoring the feeling choices,

We grasp the will, that we've regained.

Can we change our focus,

With no need to defend,

Acknowledging joy and sorrow,

Without judging foe or friend?

Tomorrow promises the fullness,

Of every Human way to know;

How we master each challenge,

Determines our balance-

Reflecting how we grow.

Jamie Sams - Tomorrow

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