Every mist in the dark woods. Every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people. We know the sap that courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are a part of the earth and it is part of us.
Perfumed flowers are our sisters.
The bear , the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadow, the body heat of the pony , and man, all belonging to the same family. The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land you must remember that it is sacred. Each ghostly reflection in the clear water of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people.