Quotes About Connection

Someone accompanies every soul from the other side when it enters this place. Usually it is an ancestor with whom that child shares traits and gifts.

All for that welcome home dance, The most favorite of all-- when everyone finds their way back together to dance, eat and celebrate. And tell story after story of how they fought and played in the story wheel and how no one was ever really lost at all.

My path is made of poetry and music, characterized by rowdiness and sunflowers, and given life by everyone I have met along the way in this process of becoming human. (When I say everyone, I don't mean just us ornery two-legged beings.)

But you must have grown out of a thousand years dreaming just like I could never imagine you. You must have broke open from another sky to here, because now I see you as a part of the millions of other universes that I thought could never occur in this breathing. And I know you as myself, traveling. In your eyes alone are many colonies of stars and other circling planet motion.

History will always find you, and wrap you In its thousand arms.

My heart is taken by you and these mornings since I am a horse running towards a cracked sky where there are countless dawns breaking simultaneously. There are two moons on the horizon and for you I have broken loose.

These are the ice horses, horses who entered through your head, and then your heart, your beaten heart. These are the ones who loved you. They are the horses who have held you so close that you have become a part of them, an ice horse galloping into fire.

All those you thought you lost now circle you And you are free of pain and heartbreak. Don't look back, keep going. We will carry your memory here, until we join you In just a little while, in one blink of star time.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

The traditional ways and rituals of all of Earth's peoples are kept in containers of poetry, song, and story. It is how we know who we are, where we are coming from and who we are becoming.

Through her eyes I came to see that all is spiritual and we either move about respectfully within it, or we are lost.

We get frantic in our loving. The distance between Santa Fe and Albuquerque shifts and changes. It is moments; it is years. I am next to you in skin and blood and then I am not. I tremble and grasp at the edges of myself; I let go into you.

Don't forget: hold somebody's hand through the dark.

When I began to listen to poetry, it's when I began to listen to the stones, and I began to listen to what the clouds had to say, and I began to listen to others. And I think, most importantly for all of us, then you begin to learn to listen to the soul, the soul of yourself in here, which is also the soul of everyone else. —Joy Harjo

I have forgotten the reason, forgive me. I have forgotten my name in the language I was born to, forgive me.

began to follow all of my thoughts and was surprised how many didn't belong to me. And how many had threads to ancestors, relatives, strangers, even plants, elements, and animals.

She had horses who were the blue air of the sky.

Some will not see them. But some will see the horses with their hearts of sleeping volcanoes and will be rocked awake past their bodies to see who they have become.

Pass this love on, he'd say. It knows how to bend and will never break. It's the only thing with a give and take, The more it's used the more it makes. That love is the bridge that will cross the river home. He'd be standing in the dark with no one listening. How time blows steadily through the city, the trees. Sing to this earth, sing, he sang.

I was a star falling from the night sky I needed you to catch me I was a rainbow lifting from a dark cloud I needed you to see me You keep your eyes to the ground

Our knowledge is based on the origin stories of land, genealogy and ancestors. If you know the branches of the tree of relationship between tribal clans and family members, then you know who you are, said the panther to its cubs.

You were born of a generation that promised to help remember.

Poet Warrior gave birth to two children And acquired more children along the way Through association, marriage, and love. There were more and more story bringers In her world. They became her fiercest teachers Of how there is no end to love And of how it plants itself Deeper than earth Or sky.

I began to understand that poetry did not have to be ... of an English that was always lonesome for its homeland in Europe.