A Thanksgiving Day Prayer . . .

 We return thanks to our mother, the earth, which sustains us.
We return thanks to the rivers and streams,which supply us with water. 

We return thanks to all herbs,
which furnish medicines for the cure of our diseases.

We return thanks to the corn,
and to her sisters, the beans and squash, which give us life. 

We return thanks to the bushes and trees, which provide us with fruit.

We return thanks to the wind,
which, moving the air, has banished diseases.

 

We return thanks to the moon and the stars,
which have given us their light when the sun was gone.

We return thanks to our grandfather He-no,
that he has protected his grandchildren from witches and reptiles,
and has given to us his rain.

We return thanks to the sun,
that he has looked upon the earth with a beneficent eye. 

Lastly, we return thanks to the Great Spirit,
in whom is embodied all goodness,
and who directs all things for the good of his children. 

 ~Iroquois Prayer from the 1800's

Twas the Night Before Deer Season . . .

 

Twas the night before deer season, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The bowstrings where waxed and in their cases with care,
In hopes that deer season would soon be there.

The young hunters where nestled in their beds,
While visions of Big Bucks and Does danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, all angry at dad,
Because of the time spent preparing his bag.

When morning came round, coffee so warm,
The hunters where wondering “Is it going to storm?”
Watching their videos getting all pumped,
Making sure their guts unload by taking a dump.

Getting in their camouflage, and all the hunting stuff,
Firing up their Scent Smokers and watching them puff.
Load up in the vehicles and off to the woods,
Hoping they remembered everything they should.

Arriving at the hunting grounds feeling like Christmas morning,
Hoping they give their prey no fair warning.
Some walking to stands and some to their blinds,
Can’t wait to leave all their worries behind.

As day slowly turns from the night,
The birds start to wake and begin to take flight.
They sing their songs that have sounds of beauty,
While the hunters are finishing their duty.

Waiting and watching anything that moves,
The hunters are slowly sliding into their groove.
Some will find success, and some will get skunked
To most it does not matter if they get punked.

 

 

The smell of autumn and the changing of leaves,
This is why a hunter lives and breathes.
For on the opening day of deer season,
To be in the woods is life’s reason!

 

Good luck to all who are venturing into the woods this season

God Bless and Be Safe!