by beautiful people.
the earth is sick, the animals will begin
to disappear, when that happens, the Warriors
of the Rainbow will come to save them.
wee child toddling in a wonder world, I
prefer to their dogma my excursions into the
natural gardens where the voice of the
Great Spirit is heard in the twittering of the
birds, the rippling of mighty waters, and the
sweet breathing of flowers. If this is Paganism,
then at present , at least, I am a Pagan.
Blackfoot warrior and orator
is life? It is the flash of a firefly in
the night. It is the breath of a buffalo
in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which
runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
Chief Aupumut, Mohican
it comes time to die, be not like those whose
hearts are filled with fear of death, so when their
time comes they weep and pray for a little more
time to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
Great Spirit in all things, he is the air we
breathe. The Great Spirit is our Father, but the
Earth is our Mother. She nourishes us, that which
we put into the ground she returns to us.
Standing Bear Oglala Sioux
American Indian is of the soil, whether it be the
region of forests, plains, pueblos, or mesas. He fits
into the landscape, for the hand that fashioned the
continent also fashioned the man for his surroundings.
He once grew as naturally as the wild sunflowers,
he belongs just as the buffalo belonged.....
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