United by Roots

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No More Stolen Sisters

Her face holds mountains, rivers deep,
A sacred memory the earth must keep.
Her braid is woven with songs of flame,
Whispers of sisters who never came.

The red hand cries where silence grew,
A mark of sorrow the world once knew.
Yet from her spirit, a vow takes flight:
No more stolen in the dark of night.

We lift her voice, we raise her name,
Through fire, through storm, through endless pain.
For every sister, lost, unknown,
The earth resounds: you are not alone.

Voices of the Wolf
Upon the orange sacred flame,
The wolf stands tall, it speaks our name.
Its patterns hold the stories old,
Of children’s lives, of hearts of gold.
Each child a song, a sacred thread,
Not lost, not broken, though many bled.
The wolf cries out, the sky replies,
Their spirits live, they never die.
So let the drums of justice sound,
On every land, on hallowed ground.
For every child, in night or day,
Their light will guide the healing way.