Wide Land

Got the wide land around me
And the bright sky above me
Got the warmth of your body
And the long road before me
Got the colors of the spectrum
And the heartbeat of your drum
Got the waves on the ocean
In the land where I come from
Tengo todo, todo que la tierra me dio:
El amor que me cuida, el amor y el canto
And the morning's for singing
And the night time's for dreaming
Got the future for scheming
And the present's for living
Got the power of the sunlight
And the cool of a fall night
Got the wisdom to share life
And the will to survive

Horizon line

Only when you know the horizon
Can the spirit of life come to you
Only when you've felt the
Crashing power of the waves
Can the melody spring through
Only when you've searched
A horizon line
Reaching out and ever beyond
Only when you turn to another side, can you really and truly
Belong… be one
That is when the river flowed from inside of me. That is when I gave another side to be free
Only when I learned to move beyond whatever we had done could I shine like a rising sun
Only when you felt the horizon
The gentleness, the strength of the waves. Only when you learn about beginnings and ends can you reach for a brighter, better way…
The blending of sea w/ sky
La mar verde al color de añil
The merging of two as one
A horizon line
In july (there you lie…)


Listen to the ones who have suffered
They are the ones that can show us a way. For they have seen more than we may ever know. They have the greatest share of life's burdens to bare, and so they know what's fair,
And is not.
Listen to the heart you find in another's eyes, or in the touch of their hand. If you feel the presence of a power there, let you be moved by it. Let it feed your spirit.
Are you hearing me when I say
We would be happier if we ran away, but we've got to stay here, face it.
Listen to the ones who have suffered yeah, they might me the ones to show us a way. If you're only listening to the ones who (think they) have it all you know they're gonna say, ‘I made it all the way, I'm a big man today, and I've got mine all saved for myself'
Listen to the ones who have suffered yeah, like all the children with their searching eyes, and all the plants and animals on this earth, or whoever's trying now to make a way , different than war and need, different than blood and greed.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la la, la, la, la, la

Time of release

Unbind the memories
Finding love in whatever it be
Finding truth in the enemy in the sun and the rain and the Wounded Knee
You can listen you can learn
Let the spirit let you be
The source of the soul that leads you nearer to peace, the source of the soul that leads you nearer to peace.
For the old ways will pass by and by
And we turn and we learn and the spirit comes alive.
The path of life, the road to peace
The end of war, time of release.
Move on further to fly room to begin makes it easy to try. And you reshape, you reclaim, you feel it cada vez more, and as one turns away there's another opening door.


I want to be a singer, an farmer, an artist, painting all my dreams upon the page, giving meaning to dreams on a stage.
I want to bathe in the sunlight, in the moonlight, in the starlight, reaching out to all that we could be, celebrating multiplicity.
So many times I was afraid, so many times I turned away. But then you know a gentle wind counseled me, about strength and fragility…
I want to be a singer, a gardener, a lover, an artist a wise woman, learning to live gently on the land, healing with the power of my hands.
Learning to live gently on the sea where we could be
Celebrating multiplicity…

Who do you love

If you're traveling through a Chinese landscape with the yellow river rolling by. If you're on the hills of Costa Rica with the full yellow sun in your eyes,

Or in the plaza of Salamanca where the café's rich as a queen, or in yorkshire where the hills are ever-rolling green.

Who do you love so fine, who is the one who keeps echoing into your mind?

On the beaches of varadero with crystal blue waters and sand so warm, over the ocean to borinquen with the pastels of old san juan, or in ottowa cananda where the snow softens our journey, or the peaceful hills of Sweden where the berries grow wild and free.