The Indian

18/04/2017

My people walk like wind beneath the groves, while our spirits roam the illuminated plains, or the forests replanting life. In our hearts, we ask the Great Spirit that when we touch the ground with affection, it becomes more fertile, because in this way we will be even more brothers of the tree people.


My people wet their hair in the waters of life in this sense the softness of the first buds of spring and the richness of the whole earth. And without fear or hindrance we redo the rivers of the will and the feelings that run through the soul.


My people feel that we are relatives of the forest. And we feel our blood more when the green of the leaves moves fast in the plants. However, it is only in the child's sweet gaze, living within the free being, when sowing healing, the true sense of the strength of our people.


My people call the waters of heaven by their affectionate name, blessing all living forms as if there were no separation. We believe we all came from the same seed and grew like a huge tree. That we are different just because the twigs possess many aptitudes in their countless ramifications.


The sun is our father, the moon our mother and the earth our grandmother. And with all respect to the body of the earth that sustains us and makes us grow, it is also our ancient and sacred love. And for her we are the guardians who hold the torch that advances in the dark night, looking for the alive beings and the own life, although other people distrust of our vocation, or they find that of a smaller value. Which is unfortunate, for all have their role, and ours is this, love and respect the earth, since for red skin everything is sacred.


We dance in the sun, the rain, the wind, for the absolute touches the simplicity of wild hearts. Savages of such purity. The fire of our fires pours out like opalescent larva of a liquid red to slow down the darkness and bring the brother heat. Our science and spirituality is one. We have no strange pretensions to the vocation of the earth. Our heritage is care.


What we do know is that there was a break, an improper opening between the worlds, an undesirable break between the natural and what man creates. Not everything is bad, no. But lessons were not learned, though our existence, our example, our sweat, and finally our shed blood. Nature is not a contrast, some destroy it with axes, saws, pollution and so many other things, but nothing compares to the selfishness and greed that cheats and betrays everything.


It suffers the Indian and the Indian of soul, who in the valley of the heart of the world, looks at the incomprehension of those who call it truth is lost in possessing, not having only. Look no longer destiny, the destiny of beings. Earth is a gift, will understanding be so difficult? For a long time, we believed that there was more intelligence in the world. Are we wrong?


"Little birds do not destroy your nest, it is small, unique and beautiful, therefore the most precious of all."


Carlos França