"We sang the songs that carried in their melodies
all the sounds of nature -- the running waters, the
sighing of winds, and the calls of the animals.
Teach these to your children that they may come to
love nature as we love it."
Grand Council Fire of American Indians
Treat the earth well: it was not given to you by
your parents, it was loaned to you by your
children. We do not inherit the Earth from our
Ancestors, we borrow it from our Children."
Indian Proverb
I call to the East, where the Father ascends
to all Mother Earth where life begins.
I fly through the cedars, pines, willows, and birch
as animals below me wander and search.
I call to the South, to the land down below.
Turtle stands silent, as man strings his bow
to hunt food and fur for his kin before snow.
A life will end so others will grow.
I call to the North, that yansa once knew.
I follow their path til it disappears from view.
Once vast in number, there stand but a few.
I hear only ghost thunder of millions of hooves.
I call to the West, to the ends of the lands,
to the Tsalagi, Kiowa, Comanche ... all bands.
Unite for the strength. Teach the young and demand
that you are Native Americans. Learn your tongue
and stand.
By Spirit Wind
Cherokee Traveler's Greeting
I will draw thorns from your feet.
We will walk the White Path of Life together.
Like a brother of my own blood,
I will love you.
I will wipe tears from your eyes.
When you are sad,
I will put your aching heart to rest.
