Glooskap, (also spelled Gluskap, Koluskap, or Glusap) the creator, transformer, and cultural hero who shaped the world and taught humans how to live. Oral legends come from the Wabanaki Confederacy (Mi’kmaq, Maliseet, Passamaquoddy, Abenaki, and Penobscot) and often mirror many world creation myths.

Glooskap, Shaper of the Dawn

Before the rivers learned their song,
Before the stars were named,
Glooskap woke from dreaming earth,
By spirit fire aflame.
He shaped the mountains with his hand,
He carved the bays and coves,
He whispered words to sleeping trees
And taught the wind to rove.
He hunted shadows through the mist,
He stilled the giant’s roar,
He tamed the whale to guard the deep,
And walked from shore to shore.
He taught the people kindness’ ways,
The making of the bow,
The rhythm of the drum and dance,
The seeds the hands should sow.
When greed and pride grew strong again,
And hearts forgot his song,
He turned his face toward the east—
Where first he came along.
The dawn still burns where he will stand,
When humankind is true;
Glooskap waits beyond the light,
And watches what we do.

Gluskap the Teacher

In the void before the world began,
When fog was thicker than thought,
Gluskap rose from the red clay’s dream
And found the earth unformed, untaught.
He knelt beside the sleeping stone,
And with his hands of dawn
He pulled up mountains, tall and proud,
So sky and sea could meet upon.
He traced his fingers through the plain—
A river sprang and ran,
And every bend became a song
To guide the steps of man.
From driftwood bones he built the moose,
From spark and sigh, the loon;
He breathed upon the barren hills,
And forests woke in tune.
With laughter sharp as northern wind,
He fooled the frost and flame,
Taming chaos, shaping form—
And gave each thing a name.
Then, last of all, he molded us
From dust and dream and tide;
He set the fire within our hearts,
Then stood the world beside.
And when the stars began to spin,
He smiled and turned away—
His work still moves beneath the sun,
Renewed with every day.

Koluskap the Trickster

Koluskap smiled at the foolish crow,
Who boasted he could steal the sun.
He let him try — oh, what a show —
Till dawn forgot to come.
Then Koluskap laughed, a thunder roll,
And plucked the sun back down,
Saying, “Even light must rest a while,
Before it warms the ground.”
He taught the bear to share the fish,
By swapping their shadows round;
The greedy one grew tall and lean,
The humble — strong and sound.
He tricked the wind into a knot,
To show its reckless pride,
And when the trees stood breathless still,
He whispered, “Balance, not might.”
Oh, Koluskap, teacher clothed in jest,
Your lessons wear a grin—
Each foolish act, each comic twist,
Hides wisdom deep within.
He laughs to make the people think,
He jokes to keep them wise—
For truth, like fire, burns best
When sparked by bright surprise.

Glusap the Warrior

When the world was young and trembling,
And darkness ruled the plain,
Gluskap rose from mountain’s heart
To break the cords of pain.
He faced the giants born of greed,
The monsters born of pride,
He met the storms that tore the trees,
And turned their rage aside.
His arrows shone with lightning’s edge,
His voice could calm the wave,
He fought not just with strength of arm,
But with the heart he gave.
He battled those who hoarded life,
Who poisoned field and sky,
And when their fury dimmed the sun,
He would not turn nor die.
He bound the serpent of the sea,
He stilled the burning breath,
He taught that courage, love, and care
Can stand the test of death.
Then when the land grew bright again,
And people walked in peace,
He laid his weapons in the dawn
And let the fighting cease.
Yet still, when shadows thicken near,
And greed would rend the day,
Gluskap’s spirit wakes the wind—
To drive the dark away.