Pocahontas

Vocals & Creative Concept: Ekaterina Yaremchuk Historic Footprint — History Lives in Music Pocahontas Morning awakens beside the wide river, Leaves catch the sunlight and quietly shimmer. High on the cliffs where the wild eagles fly, A young woman listens beneath the blue sky. Pocahontas walks where the clear waters bend, Forest and river have long been her friends. Wind in the branches, earth under her feet, Every small voice has a story to speak. Then on the water strange white sails appear, Carrying strangers from lands nowhere near. Iron and timber arrive on the shore, Two distant worlds stand face to face once more. Listen before anger becomes a flame, A stranger may also be more than a name. Pocahontas, where the wide river flows, Follow the path that your own spirit knows. Under the moon and the old cedar tree, Sing for the earth, for the sky and the sea. John came from England across the grey sea, Searching for lands he had never yet seen. She showed him valleys, the forest and rain, He spoke of cities and ships on the main. Different their stories, different their ways, Yet both saw the same sun at end of the day. But voices of anger grew louder nearby, And smoke from the fires rose into the sky. One word of mercy, one hand held high, Can silence a sword before people must die. Pocahontas, stand where two worlds meet, Choose words of peace when the war drums beat. When fear builds a wall and divides every shore, Open your heart and discover there's more. No river belongs to a single hand, No wind asks permission to cross any land. The stars shine alike on the stranger and friend, And hatred can stop where compassion begins. Some roads are chosen, some lead apart, Some leave a story engraved on the heart. The river keeps moving beneath morning skies, Carrying old songs where the blue heron flies. Pocahontas, where the wide river flows, Walk with the courage your own spirit knows. Under the sunrise, beside the old tree, Stand for the earth and the right to be free. Pocahontas, where two worlds meet, Let peaceful words rise above marching feet. Where river and forest meet ocean and sky, Your song rides the wind where the wild eagles fly. Evening grows golden, the river runs slow, Leaves on the water drift gently below. Far past the shoreline, where distant winds roam, The river keeps singing its ancient song.