FLUTTER-RHYTHM OF WATER FALLING
DANCING FIREWORD WITHOUT SOUND
BIRDS WING PAST THE EARS OWN EAR
MOUNTAIN-SONG-LAUGHTER
WE ARE


   We are the Earth People. We call ourselves WE. The Earth and the Sky, our primordial parents, provide the heritage of Unity that we as individuals seek. It is through the Vision of the Sioux medicine man, Black Elk, that We as Earth-People together can alow this heritage to live and grow.


And now the fourth grandfather spoke, he of the place where you are always facing (the south), whence comes the power to grow. "Younger brother," he said, "with the power of the four quarters you shall walk a relative, Behold, the living center of a nation I shall give you, and with it many you shall save."
   And I saw that he was holding in his hand a bright red stick that was alive, and as I looked it sprouted at the top and sent forth branches, and on the branches many leaves came out and murmured, and in the leaves the birds began to sing. And then for a little while, I thought I saw beneath it in the shade the circled villages of people, and every living thing with roots or legs or wings and all were happy. "It shall stand in the center of the nation's circle." said the grandfather, "a cane to walk with and a people's heart, and by your powers you shall make it blossom."
   Then when he had been still a little while to hear the birds sing, he spoke again: "BEHOLD THE EARTH!"


   We call this Vision of Black Elk's EARTH PEOPLES PARK a new nation of children singing and dancing, for what else have we learned?   A new nation, a no nation- EARTH PEOPLES PARK.
   The collective hallucination of two generations of madmen, music to make a million people dance. The mushrooms are already coming through the cement floor in the basement. A nation of madmen and children - Earth Peoples Park.
   "What if you could put a rainbow on a flagpole?" Who said that? Who said that?


Love is but a song we sing
Here's the way we dance.

   Can you remember the way we danced? Can you remember the way we sang? At Woodstock    in Peoples Park.
   From Indian Rock you can look out across that terminal disease called "Civilization,". From Indian Rock you can witness in horror the penultimate product of that dying Civilization - THE CITY
   From Indian Rock, if you look hard enough, you can see the germ of life that the million-year-old-death kit has failed to destroy   Woodstock Peoples Park.
   We can remember how to sing and dance. Is that political? If so, then call it the Politics of Joy. Is this revolution? If so, call it the Revolution of Joy. In whose national interest is it to keep the sun from shining? In whose interest is it to poison and putrify the land and the sea.
   Are you a part of that nation? Or were you simply singing and dancing. Or are you a part of a new nation, a no-nation. A nation where there is no "your space" and "my space," where there is no inner space and outer space - where there is only FREE SPACE
   The collective hallucination of two generations of madmen and children - peering into the dawn with only the Morning Star to light their way.

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
   And what if all the people who can still remember how to dance and sing come together in wholly communion.
   Couldn't the energy generated by that communion return a piece of the earth from those who thought they could section off the seamless universe and claim a part of it as their own?

How can one man own another man?
How can one man own another's time?
How can he own another's energy?
How can he OWN a piece of the sky, or the sea, or the earth?
"And who shall command the skylark not to sing?"

You ask me to plow the ground.
Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's breast?
Then when I die. She will not take me to her bosom to rest.
You ask me to dig for stone.
Shall I dig under her skin for bones?
Then when I die
I cannot enter her body to be born again
You ask me to cut grass and make hay
And sell it and be rich like the white man.
But how dare I cut off my mother's hair?
It is a bad law and my people cannot obey it.
           -Nez Perce Smohalla, about 1870

   We spent a million years developing the fine art of war and weaponry and we called it civilization. And a million years making excuses for that civilization by calling it Culture.
   Culture Vultures and nothing more. Have we had enough? Are we ready to try something else? Or do we want to fight each other over a world that has already been destroyed in the battle?
   "We had to destroy it to save it." Who said that? Who said that?
   Are we ready to die for the piece of neon madness called the city? Is that our home? Or are we ready to sing and dance in the creation of a new nation   a no-nation - not of geographical boundaries, but of free spirits howling at the moon - Earth Peoples Park
   Now, like no other time in history can we see Black Elk's Vision as he stood beneath the rainbow entrance to the Grandfathers' tee-pee. Now, as at no other time can we hear the grandfather's words so clearly:
   "Take courage younger brother. On earth a nation you shall make live, for yours shall be the power of the white giant's wing   the clensing wind."


They are appearing
They are appearing
The thunder nation is appearing

They are appearing
They are appearing
The white geese nation is appearing