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Remember the sky that you were born under, 
know each of the star’s stories. 
Remember the moon, know who she is. I met her 
in a bar once in Iowa City. 
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the 
strongest point of time. Remember sundown 
and the giving away to night. 
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled 
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of 
her life, and her mother’s, and hers. 
Remember your father. He is your life also. 
Remember the earth whose skin you are: 
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth 
brown earth, we are earth. 
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their 
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them, 
listen to them. They are alive poems. 
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the 
origin of this universe. I heard her singing Kiowa war 
dance songs at the corner of Fourth and Central once. 

Remember that you are all people and that all people are you. 
Remember that you are this universe and that this universe is you. 
Remember that all is in motion, is growing, is you. 
Remember that language comes from this. 
Remember the dance that language is, that life is. 
Remember. 
 
-Joy Harjo, in She Had Some Horses