THE EASTERN SUN

It's in the blood

It's in the wind

I can hear it in the song

That the ancestors sing

Carry me home

To the eastern sun

Where the spider holds the story

In the silk she has spun

Where my blood runs fast

And my mind never falters

Where my roots come alive

In the cold, briney waters

Carry me back

To the land of high water

Where the sun bursts open

On its red fiery altar

Where my vision expands

Away from dry land

Where the light fills my head

And my arms are wide open

Take me back

To before it was written

Where the white buffalo is born

To transform all that's hidden

Where the freedom we seek

Already resides

In the air that we breath

In the ever-changing tides

It's in the blood

It's in the wind

I can hear it in the song

That the ancestors sing.