My daughter changed her brown hair to blond, and then yesterday I noticed her FACEBOOK photo changed too…. Chelsea is a blond Pocahantas.
Seeing the image of Pocahantas a flood of memoires came to surface stirring my day in favorable thoughts about Chelsea as a little girl…. mind you my thoughts of her are always favorable, but yesterday my little girl was Pocahantas, not the young lady faraway.
My memories included:
When she dressed like Pocahantas for weeks on end,
When she played the CD of Colors of the Wind so often that I forgot that there were other songs to listen to,
One day we went to a friend's house and their teen age daughter was also in love with Pocahantas, and was dressed like her. The young girl had a natural brown complexion. Chelsea was in awe of her… Pocahantas was alive!
You think I'm an ignorant savage
And you've been so many places
I guess it must be so
But still I cannot see
If the savage one is me
How can there be so much that you don't know?
You don't know …
You think you own whatever land you land on
The Earth 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
You 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'll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked 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 pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sunsweet 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 river are my brothers
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 will 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
For whether we are white or copper skinned
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains
We need 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.
I miss you Pocahantas… Though I can hear you sing with all the voices of the mountain and the melody is soothing to my missing heart.
(My friend Jani explained why Facebook Photos are Cartoons:
Change your profile pic to a cartoon from your childhood, and invite your friends to do the same. Until Monday (Dec. 6th), there should be no human faces on Facebook but a stash of memories. This is to help raise awareness for eliminating violence against children.)
Who did you pretend to be as a child?
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