Wówaŋyaŋke Wakan Tanka, Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka, Tunkášila, Mitȟákuye Owás’iŋ —
You are the One Whose Light cannot be grasped, whose Being cannot be spoken. Even the deepest language of our hearts, even the strongest longing of our spirits, cannot rise high enough to reach the mystery of Your Being.
O Wíyakapi Tȟaópi kiŋ, You Who see all —
Even the wisest of those we call holy were shaped by Your breath. Their vision is but a reflection of the Light You cast upon the world.
O Wóksape Thípi kiŋ, You Who are the Lodge of All Wisdom —
Even the sacred springs from which wisdom flows were carved by Your Will from the bedrock of Spirit.
O Wówačhiŋ Owáŋka kiŋ, You Who are beyond compare —
Even the fire of unity that burns in the hearts of those who walk the Sacred Path comes from the sparks of Your Flame.
O Wówaš’ake kiŋ, You Who know all things —
Even the keepers of knowledge are but the vessels You have hollowed out with Your own hand, that they may carry a drop of Your ocean.
Wóuŋspe kiŋ lila wičhóni kiŋ hehíyuŋ šni.
The ways of mortal understanding do not reach You. The sacred teachings of even the most revered cannot describe the scent of Your Spirit. All these are but smoke trails rising toward a sky they cannot touch.
Even the most beautiful songs our Elders sing, even the most powerful prayers ever offered in the lodge, move within the Sacred Circle You have drawn. They rotate around a Center which bows before Your Beauty and dances to the rhythm of Your Dream.
Tȟaŋka Wówaŋyaŋke šni šni šni.
There is no way to grasp You, no bridge to cross into the Heart of Your Essence. Even to speak of such a bridge is to mistake the shadow for the Tree.
The sacred Tree of Your Revelation, Čhaŋ Wákȟan, stands far above all likenesses, beyond all comparison. It is not born from this world, but descends from realms our minds cannot enter. No road leads to its roots, no eye can see its topmost branches.
Whatever songs You ask us to sing, whatever names You ask us to call You by, whatever duties You give us — they are not for Your sake. They are Your mercy to us, that we may awaken and walk the path back to the sacred knowing of our own spirits.
Tȟaȟčuŋ Waŋžíla šni — There is none like You.
No one has ever known You. No one can ever hold You in word or thought. You remain beyond all names —
Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka, Tȟuŋkášila, Wíyakapi, Wóksape, Owáŋka Wówačhiŋ, Wakȟáŋ kiŋ háŋte šni.
You are the Inaccessible One. The All-Powerful.The All-Knowing.
The One Whose Sacredness is beyond even holiness.
