Tribe Follows Tribe, Nations Follow Nations Like

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.

There Is No Quiet Place In The White Man's Cities. No Place To Hear The Unfurling Of Leaves In Spring, Or The Rustle Of An Insect's Wings. But Perhaps It Is Because I Am A Savage And Do Not Understand. The Clatter Only Seems To Insult The Ears.

To Us, The Ashes Of Our Ancestors Are Sacred And Their Resting Place Is Hallowed Ground.

What Is There To Life If A Man Cannot Hear The Lonely Cry Of The Whippoorwill Or The Arguments Of The Frogs Around The Pool At Night?

All Things Are Connected Like The Blood Which Unites One Family.