In a dream, I see an hourglass turn, and every grain of sand a dwindling echo of our choices. Our Mother earth is not our enemy; she is a living memory, patient but not eternal, and her warnings are growing sharper, her fury more relentless. Sleeping volcanoes are erupting, earthquakes are joining forces. The hour is here; it is inevitable—a pulse beneath the surface, gathering strength.

As the world heaves with storms never imagined, we are reminded that the Ohén:ton Kariwatéhkwen is not a mere overture. The words before all else, is a powerful force that rises to greet the fury of our mother and, in humility, seeks to cradle her.
As we brace for more extremes, the Ohén:ton Kariwatéhkwen is a powerful offering that can calm the powerful forces of destruction. Our elders recognized, with bone-deep wisdom, how the air thickens or thins, how the weight of the sky presses upon our bodies, how every shift in the wind is a message of preparedness written in currents and pressure.

Our elders have taught us gratitude is not a ritual; it is a way of knowing—a way of moving through the world that restores equilibrium, heals severed bonds, and acknowledges our rightful place among all beings. Our elders say: speak to the earth with reverence, and she will answer. Let the rivers bear your gratitude, let the wind spread your devotion, let the thunder beings bear witness to your commitments.

Gratitude alone cannot shield us if we persist in ignorance and disregard. When wonder gives way to entitlement, the earth’s patience thins. We are not sovereign here—we are guests, bound to a sacred mother. If we abandon the teachings of humility, if we continue to take without offering thanks, then the balance will tip beyond our control. A warning pulses deep in her womb: forget the Ohén:ton Kariwatéhkwen, and the circle fractures. To break faith with the land is to invite storms that do not forgive, and will call forth seasons of reckoning.

Her generosity is not inexhaustible. When the last warning is spent, and the balance is finally undone, there will be no comfort in our regrets, only the stark truth that we were given every chance to remember, to honour, to restore.
We stand at the threshold. Every storm, every trembling fault line, every wild current is a summons. If we answer with indifference, if we meet the rising tides with complacency and the thunder’s call with division, the consequences will be swift and unyielding.

Let us not wait for calamity to be our teacher. Let us hear her warning now, in the ancient rhythm of gratitude and humility. For the greatest loss would be to awaken too late—to find that the world we loved has turned her face away, and that redemption is no longer within reach.

- Wakerakatste Louise McDonald Herne, Condoled Bear Clan Mother and Oherokon Visionary and Founder

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