Let me protect you from the narrowness of men's minds,
From the attitudes that bind you into believing
that you are less than free to hold in your heart
all that you will one day be.
 
Let me share with you the song of the Quetzal as he cries.
Fiercely proud, his colors throwing glinting emerald sparks to God.
Bold wings dancing on blue skies. I am! I am! he proclaims,
as men behold his beauty and are awed.
 
Why should it be any less for you my raven haired,
earth hued child? That your pride should be no less pure
and good than this flight of fancy
echoing through the wood.
 
Let me sing the stars home with you and reach
as high as spirits dare, as fertile clouds mass overhead
to shed their lives on waiting plains. We touch the heavens
and humility, the heart of God a blessing.
The home we find, tranquility.
 
Dance me into the Great Circle in your way, gentle and kind.
My way is quickly paced, making me weary with regret
at mysteries not kin to my mind.
Unlike the kiss of rain on fevered brow,
Death does not life beget.
 
Brave heart dancing on Spirit Way
be not trapped by this mockery of life.
Where color takes precedence over soul's worth
and fools with lock-step minds
are dead before their birth.