Women's Gathering - Star Sisters

Women's Gathering - Star Sisters Women’s Gathering was founded in 2007, based on a dream and vision. We do not have a committee, council, political or religious format. Love Is All There Is.

We make decisions as a collective whole; we are all leaders and we share our wisdom for generations to come. “The vision started in the ‘90s in New York City; many wisdom-keepers of different cultures shared with me the original, sacred intent of America. People of all different colors were to come to the West and meld their wisdom with the Indigenous Peoples of this continent to become whole huma

n beings balanced in spirit, soul, mind and body. We moved home to my roots at Fort Belknap Indian Reservation and found that Montana is where Phoenixfire will take flight. We are sharing our wisdom and ‘Gather the Flames’ of the sacred fire to spiral out to the four directions to weave pure Love of the Universe in the “Web of Life” for World Peace. ‘Our Voices Sing Loud to the Heartbeat of Mother Earth,’ echoing out our ancestor’s wisdom flowing through our DNA, to remember who we are and rise as ONE. Buffalo Nations are rising from the ashes to be a catalyst for “Healing the Soul Wounds of Indigenous Peoples of the World. We open the new cycle as a human family, the ‘Tree of Life and the Hoop of Nations’ is restored and our gift is becoming the whole human beings we were meant to be. A’ho.” -Valdean Mountain El Assad Nookoosi, Nooci iiteenooni

PHOENIXFIRE’S MISSION
We serve as the Keepers of Mother Earth to restore our natural harmony with the Universe; to empower, educate and inspire the evolving fusion of ancient people’s wisdom with present day living creates a “Whirling Rainbow Bridge” to voice to the world “We Are All Related,” for World Peace for generations to come. Our Goals:
1. We honor the sacred feminine of Mother Earth, Women and Girls i.e. Societies, Women’s Gatherings, Talking Circles, Sacred Sites, World Peace Cultural Exchange Journeys.
2. Buffalo Nations rise from the ashes as a catalyst for “Healing the Soul Wounds of Indigenous Peoples of the World” aka International Memorial Site recognizing the Genocide of Indigenous Peoples (NCAI Resolution -13-012, 2013)
3. World Peace Changemaker Media Projects & Events
on paradigm shifts of consciousness

Women’s Gathering was founded in 2007 based on a dream and vision. In 2009, we sponsored a Buffalo Hunt and we journeyed to the Big Horn Medicine Wheel in Wyoming. We prayed for the unity and healing of All people. Our eldest member Elizabeth Warrior (Liz Main), requested before her passing in March 2011, that our Women’s Gathering complete a Hoop gathering connecting us with Phoenixfire’s Star Sisters Hoop including women of all colors and cultures coming together for World Peace. On the day of the gathering people came from across the state and eagles were perched on every other telephone pole from Billings to Fort Belknap, a 3 hour drive; and hawks were perched on every other telephone pole for the entire span of the reservation from south to north. We continue to grow with the flow of the universe. A’ho! www.phoenixfirerising.com or .org

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05/03/2026

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Grandmother Stars Are Speaking

She stands where night opens
like a sacred lodge of stars,
wrapped in white moon-cloth,
listening to the old sky breathe.
Around her, wildflowers keep vigil,
small spirits rooted in earth-song.
Even the stones beneath her feet
remember ancient footsteps.
She has come here
to hear the ancestors.
Not in thunder.
Not in fire.
But in the quiet between heartbeats.
Above her, the star nations burn—
old grandmothers of light,
keepers of stories older than rivers.
Their silver voices drift down
through the dark medicine of night.
Daughter, they whisper,
you were never alone.
Her hair moves with the wind
like black prayer smoke rising.
Her white shawl gathers moonlight
as if woven from spirit feathers.
She remembers what the elders taught:
the dead do not leave—
they become stars,
they become owls in cedar trees,
they become dreams that return
when grief grows heavy.
She lifts her face
to the living sky.
And there among constellations
she feels her grandmothers watching,
their hands of light
resting softly upon her shoulders.
The cliff is a threshold.
Below, the world of flesh.
Above, the world of spirit.
She stands between them,
a daughter of both.
The flowers nod in moonwind.
The stones hold old prayers.
The universe listens.
And inside her rises
the ancient remembering—
that the soul is not a spark that ends,
but a fire passed onward.
She is woman,
star listener,
keeper of silent medicine,
one who carries ancestors
like hidden songs in her blood.
And the night speaks again:
When you look into the stars,
you are looking into your lineage.
Then she smiles into the darkness,
for she knows now—
the ancestors are not behind her.
They are above her,
within her,
guiding her
like constellations home.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker
🙏🙏 You can find the purchase link in the comments below each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I will send you the direct product link!

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04/23/2026

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The Call of the Earth

In the stillness of dawn's first breath,
The earth stirs in quiet reverence,
Her whispers carried by the wind,
A song sung in sacred silence.

With each step, the ground trembles,
Roots reach deep into ancient soil,
The spirit of the horse runs wild,
A bond unspoken, yet loyal.

Fire paints the sky with its touch,
As the river runs its endless course,
The sky and earth are intertwined,
Guided by the moon's steady force.

Her heart beats in rhythm with the land,
A pulse of wisdom, ancient, true,
Every sigh of wind a memory,
Every leaf a story told anew.

And in the quiet between breaths,
The world is one, the spirit whole,
For in this moment, we are the earth,
Bound by the sacred, the eternal soul.

🎨Artist and storyteller: Dorothy Vera

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04/23/2026

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Whispers of the Spirit

Beneath the moon’s soft, golden glow,
A woman stands, her thoughts in tow.
With beads of wisdom round her neck,
She listens to the sacred trek.

The hummingbird, a fleeting soul,
Speaks in silence, making her whole.
Its wings a rhythm, faint but clear,
A pulse of life that draws her near.

In the quiet, between the dark,
She feels the whisper of a spark.
Of wisdom passed from days of old,
Of stories carved in whispers bold.

The cycle turns, both life and death,
In every breath, a sacred quest.
The balance of the earth and sky,
In silence, they begin to fly.

🎨 Art by Shikoba
🖊️Poem: Ash Sani

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04/23/2026

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The Flower No Wind Can Take

Do not lower your eyes, soft one
I have seen fields of a thousand blossoms,
petals opening to the sun,
colors carried by the wind
and still, none hold the quiet fire you carry.

You are the flower the earth remembers,
the one the rivers whisper about at night,
the one the sky leans close to see
do not doubt the way you were made,
for even the seasons turn to find you.

Walk with me
through the first green breath of spring,
where new songs rise from the soil,
through the long golden days of summer
where light rests gently on your skin.

I will carry you into autumn’s fire,
where leaves fall like stories returning home,
and through the stillness of winter,
when the world sleeps in quiet trust
I will be the warmth that does not leave you.

Let me stand between you and the storm,
let my strength be the shield you never asked for
for I was not made to wander alone,
but to walk beside you, always,
until the earth forgets how to turn.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar

🖊️Poem: Piahn

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04/23/2026

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Whispers of the Cycle

The moon rests in the quiet night,
A gentle pull within the soul.
A story told in the turning wind,
Where every breath marks the whole.

Leaves fall, carried by unseen hands,
Each one a step toward the earth.
Time flows like rivers in the dark,
A journey of endless rebirth.

The sun calls softly to the dawn,
A promise kept, yet never seen.
Through quiet prayers, we walk alone,
Bound to the land, the sky, the dream.

Her heart is a drum, steady and true,
Echoing in the silence of stars.
We rise, we fall, we return again,
In the dance of the sky, beyond the scars.

🎨Artist and storyteller: Dorothy Vera

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04/23/2026

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The Drum Beneath the Earth

She sat where the tall grasses whispered,
where the wind carried stories older than breath.
The sky stretched wide like a memory,
and the land beneath her hands was warm
as if it remembered her before she was born.

Then it came
not a sound of the ear,
but a pulse inside her bones.
A drum, deep and steady,
beating from the heart of the earth itself.

Her spirit leaned closer.
The world softened.
And suddenly - she was not alone.

She saw them.
Figures rising from firelight and shadow,
feet striking the ground in sacred rhythm,
circles of dancers moving like constellations,
their voices braided with smoke and sky.

The flames spoke in orange tongues,
telling of journeys, of loss, of return.
Each step of the dance
echoed through her chest
a language older than words.

She closed her eyes,
and the drum became her heartbeat.
The ancestors moved through her breath,
through her veins, through her silence.
She was remembering what was never lost.

So she did not rise.
She stayed, listening
to the fire, to the dance, to the unseen.

Because the earth had called her name,
and in that sacred sound,
she finally understood:
she was not hearing the land
she was the song.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

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04/23/2026

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The Keeper of the Moonlight

In her arms, the world is cradled,
her heart beats with the pulse of the earth,
soft and steady,
woven into the very fabric of life.
The moon rises behind her,
its light wrapping around them both,
a glow that echoes the love she carries—
infinite,
unbroken,
eternal.

Her gaze is quiet, yet powerful,
a reflection of the stars that have watched over her ancestors.
Her hair, flowing like the river,
catches the wind—
a song carried from the past,
a song that she now passes to her child,
whispered in the silence of the night.

Feathers float in the sky,
each one a prayer,
a blessing,
a memory of those who came before,
and those who will come after.
She is the bridge between them,
a living thread that connects the ancient and the future,
the guardian of all that is sacred.

The world may change,
but her love remains—
a force that shapes the land,
a spirit that holds the earth together.
She is both the wind and the earth,
the fire and the sky,
forever intertwined with the moon's light,
forever shining.
🎨Artist and storyteller: Elvis Becker
🙏🙏 You can find the purchase link in the comments below each image. Or just send me a message with the picture you like, and I will send you the direct product link!

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04/23/2026

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Whisper of Wings

She closes her eyes
and the world does not fade
it deepens.
The wind becomes a voice,
the quiet a drum beneath her ribs.

A dragonfly rests upon her hand,
light as a memory not yet spoken,
its wings trembling with ancient breath
as if time itself had come
to sit beside her.

She feels them
the ones before her
in the soft hum between heartbeats,
in the warmth curling through her fingers,
in the stillness that is not empty.

“They are here,” the river once told her,
and now she believes
for the air carries names
she does not hear
but somehow knows.

The dragonfly does not speak in words,
yet its silence is full
of fires once lit,
of songs once carried over open plains,
of hands that held the same sky.

She breathes,
and they breathe with her.
She stands,
and she is not alone.

🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn

Address

P. O. Box 409
Hays, MT
59527

Opening Hours

Monday 1pm - 7pm
Tuesday 1am - 7pm
Wednesday 1pm - 7pm
Thursday 1pm - 7pm
Friday 1pm - 7pm

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