I closed my eyes for just a moment.
The smell of sage transported me
to a different time.
I could hear the whispers in the Garden Rue.
In the morning mist the Rosemary
reminded me of the Indian Princess.
My father gave me popping corn one year for Christmas.
I treasure the tin it came in.
I thought of the Corn Maidens.
I thought of those that once walked on this red road.
I cut a bouquet of sage, garden rue and rosemary
for my kitchen table.
I am an Indian Princess.
I am Red Woman today.
I will walk a mile in my moccasins.
Please join me.
The smell of sage transported me
to a different time.
I could hear the whispers in the Garden Rue.
In the morning mist the Rosemary
reminded me of the Indian Princess.
My father gave me popping corn one year for Christmas.
I treasure the tin it came in.
I thought of the Corn Maidens.
I thought of those that once walked on this red road.
I cut a bouquet of sage, garden rue and rosemary
for my kitchen table.
I am an Indian Princess.
I am Red Woman today.
I will walk a mile in my moccasins.
Please join me.
4 comments:
Hi Q, I know what you are talking about. I often imagine how life must have been for our ancestors. Using the same herbs but probably for very different things. I enjoy reading about how they made medicines, prepared foods, made offerings to their spirit ancestors. Everything had a purpose.
Marnie
Dear Indian Princess~Yes, I will walk a mile with you. . . i was touched by your message today ~my heart responded. Hugs from a fellow Indian Princess~carol
Dear Marnie,
I also enjoy reading about how our ancestors used natural remedies. I try to do as much natural as I can. If I can grow my medicine I am the happiest!
I recently read how rosemary and lavender are heart friendly herbs. I make a tea blend now of my herbs.
I like the way the Indians were full use too. No waste is my goal!
Sherry
Dear Carol,
Being an Indian Princess is being one with Mother Earth.
When I put my moccasins on, that were made by the Indian Women I immediately can feel the connection. These mocs have no sole and the vibration of the earth comes right up into my legs and heart...
We are one. Thank you for walking the red road with me this time.
You are a dear friend. Thank you for being an Indian Princess, a Red Woman.
All my relations,
Sherry, who holds the colors in her wools and beads
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