In the heart of the Ponca homeland, amidst the rolling prairie where the sun paints the horizon with the promise of a new day, here we stand—a congregation of prairie grasses, whispering existence to the sky. Here we wait for Mother to whisper her gentle summons, telling us to awake. Standing erect with the sunbeams from Father, bathing us in light, nourishing us with his warmth, gifting us with a drink of reawakening, we emerge from our slumber, warmed from the frost that clings to our roots buried deep in our soils.

Yet around us, there are those that stride across the prairie, unrecognizable occupiers who do not know our songs and push us aside, claiming conservation—a conservation that sings a different tune, one that does not know the rhythms of our dance or the songs of our ancestors.

We yearn for those who nurture and protect us, who dance and welcome us to awaken. Instead, we hear whispers of foreign songs and tales of manifest destiny that sweep across our lands like the harsh winds of change.

Our four-legged relatives roam confused among us. They no longer rely on us for their sustenance as they once did, and we witness them weakening and suffering beneath the weight of displacement. Our pollinators, too, are deceived, lured away, tricked by these occupiers with unfamiliar hands.

We watch as our grandfathers, the ancient rivers, are rerouted, their courses altered beyond recognition. Their wisdom, once deep and flowing, is now trapped in the channels of constraint.

Season after season, these occupiers begin to bury our essence, forcing us into a dark odyssey of the unknown. With each passing moon, our voices grow fainter, our presence dimmer under the shadow of their dominion.

Yet, we do not vanish completely. We retreat, leaving our legacy carried on the wings of those who know our songs. We will emerge again, wiping away the carnage of the occupiers. We will rise, rejuvenated by the call of those who remember. Once more, we will sway with the prairie winds, an eternal song of growth and renewal, forever rooted in the heritage of the Ponca, the timeless custodians of the prairie.