Boulder Cranial Sacral LLC

02/17/2026

Sometimes a giant
Catches our breath

Intricately carved and bent
By the people before us
Towering

From the land
Emerge the rocks, the trees
Spirits within them
Already there, forming more and more
You and I are the same

02/14/2026

02/11/2026

The old stones stacked
And the trees holding them,
It is not an accident.

Prayers of the people before
Surround us
And something older, still,
Prays us all to life
The land itself
Makes us,
Tells us
Who to be
Listen.

02/10/2026

Sometimes they burnt the way to medicine
Sap, offering itself
In the heart of this one, a rock

02/09/2026

The old check dams of the people
are still in the mountains
And all over this land
Rounded
Holding water
And prayers
Falling down now
They are here
Just like us
🪶

01/31/2026

The (corn) people are rising 🌽💙✊🏼✨✨

11/23/2025

The trail has always been there
Deers
And peoples
They all know the way
Spirits too
The ancestors walk these trails
Just read the trees
They will show you the way

11/22/2025

It wasn’t that the old people
Found the trees and decided to bend them
First
It was the spirit of the trees
That revealed
The trees gave of themselves
The old people recognized
They offered to***co
Thanks
And they listened
And that is how the trees came to be bent.
It is the same with the stones
And all things

-aki -aki -aki

11/22/2025

Perhaps you will find
Deep medicine in the forests everywhere
Carefully crafted long ago
By ancient tools
Of ancient ones
Tree trunks and limbs bent, carved, cut, and burnt
Showing us the way
An old camp here, fresh water there
Stories told through branches
Lashed to the ground to hold their shapes
Prayers of generations transferred into the turns of pines
Listen
They will show us the way
Through the mountains, across the plains, into your own soul
all over the world
Downtown, even
Look around.
Sap lines chipped into spruce, inner bark peeled from Linwood for fiber, cradleboards cut whole from ponderosas, markings made like none other for holy sites
Where spirit is strong
Turned branches speak portals and prophesies
Open your eyes and read the trees.
There is no word for sacred
In the Ojibwe language
It is understood
No need to define
That which everything is