The Wind Has a Name

In every branch, the tree, holds a story, of love, of life, of the innocent

The wind, speaks, it talks to the sky, and to the ground, it has a name

It is Pride, for every blowing leaf that flies, for every bird in the air that soars

The strength, of the movement, in every way, it brings new inspiration, of time

Of beauty among the valleys, among the mountains, and the rivers that ripple

Each song of pride, makes the earth know, it must take heed, to the living

To the beginning of life, to the tales of the cowboys ride, and the Indian who believes

In spirit of the wind, while it makes its path to the tumbling weeds, to the cleansing of the earth

The wind has a name, it is Pride, and I know it well, as it has sent me far, and near

To the beating drum of my father, and my ancestors, the feather of the eagle, blows

And the feeling of victory, and the dance of peace, will enchant the dirt, as it flies

With the wind, the dust will fall onto another ground, in which we will worship, with pride