One does not fall “in” or “out” of love. One grows in love.
Leo Buscaglia
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Colors Of The Wind
T
hink you own whatever land you land onEarth 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...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
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind.
Come run the hidden pinetrails 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.
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
You can own the Earth and still all you'll own is earth
Until you can paint with all the colors of the wind.