I have one green eye and one brown eye. The green eye sees only the truth — the other sees much, much more. From the day I took my first scalp in a war party, to the day I first walked in the spirit world, they all knew I was something different. A shaman of the plains people has many children, but he has no friends.
With my one green eye I can see the truth etched on the face og the distant peaks by the voice of the wind. I can see the sad fate of a small child as he coughs blood and clings to a frightened young mother. Yes, with my one eye I can see the truth of the all-father in every blade of grass dancing on the plain.
But it is with my right eye, the brown one, that I see that I am alone. It is through this eye that I see that alone I entered this world, and in a few short years, alone I will leave it. It is with my brown eye that I see my seed blown as dust across the plains. Forgotten.