COLORS OF THE WIND
You think you own what ever land you're on,
Earth is just a dead thing you can claim,
But I know every rock and tree and creature,
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name.
Think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you.
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You learn things you never knew.
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?
or ask the grinning bobcat why he grinned,
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest,
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth,
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once never wonder what they're worth.
The rainstorm and the rivers are my brothers.
And the heron and the otter are my friends.
And we are all connected to each other.
In a circle in a hoop that never ends.
And does the eagle let you know where he has been?
How high does the sycamore grow,
If you cut it down, then you'll never know.
And you'll never hear the wolf cry
To the blue corn moon,
Or whether we are white or copper-skinned.
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains,
To paint with all the colors of the wind.
unknown
