✨Inspired by the Creek story of how fire was brought to the people✨
Before we had fire,
we had cold bones and long nights.
The wind bit through our woven blankets,
and the stars blinked without warmth.
But across the great water,
the Thunders hoarded heat—
a blaze locked in a distant land
guarded by claw and storm.
The bear tried.
Too heavy.
The fox tried.
Too sly.
The raven tried.
Too loud.
And then came Spider—
small as a whisper,
quiet as smoke.
They laughed at her thread,
mocked her woven bowl of silk.
But Spider was a weaver of miracles.
She spun patience,
stitched intention,
and cast her web across the waves.
She waited—
not for the perfect moment,
but for the right one.
And when it came,
she crept into the fire’s chamber,
cupped a coal in her silken bowl,
and carried it back
on legs barely meant for such glory.
She lit the first flame.
We danced.
We sang.
We cooked our stories into cornmeal and ash.
And to this day,
we teach our daughters:
Do not doubt the small ones.
Do not laugh at the quiet ones.
For it was the Spider
who brought us the sun.