Contaminate Your Bed And You Will One

The Indian Prefers The Soft Sound Of The Wind Darting Over The Face Of The Pond, The Smell Of The Wind Itself Cleansed By A Midday Rain, Or Scented With Pinon Pine. The Air Is Precious To The Red Man, For All Things Are The Same Breath - The Animals, The Trees, The Man.

How Can You Buy Or Sell The Sky, The Warmth Of The Land? The Idea Is Strange To Us. If We Do Not Own The Freshness Of The Air And The Sparkle Of The Water, How Can You Buy Them? Every Part Of The Earth Is Sacred To My People, Every Shining Pine Needle, Every Sandy Shore, Every Mist In The Dark Woods, Every Clear And Humming Insect Is Holy In The Memory And Experience Of My People.

All Things Are Connected, Like The Blood That Runs In Your Family "the Water's Murmur Is The Voice Of My Father's Father." 1854 The Rivers Are Our Brothers. They Quench Our Thirst. They Carry Our Canoes And Feed Our Children. You Must Give To The Rivers The Kindness You Would Give To Any Brother.

We Are All Children Of The Great Spirit, We All Belong To Mother Earth. Our Planet Is In Great Trouble And If We Keep Carrying Old Grudges And Do Not Work Together, We Will All Die.

Will You Teach Your Children What We Have Taught Our Children? That The Earth Is Our Mother? What Befalls The Earth Befalls All The Sons Of The Earth. This We Know: The Earth Does Not Belong To Man, Man Belongs To The Earth. All Things Are Connected Like The Blood That Unites Us All. Man Did Not Weave The Web Of Life, He Is Merely A Strand In It. Whatever He Does To The Web, He Does To Himself. One Thing We Know: Our God Is Also Your God. The Earth Is Precious To Him And To Harm The Earth Is To Heap Contempt On Its Creator.