Returning to Her fields of garnet-green
Her tresses in the wind across my face
A fire is felt from breeze’s inner being
As my breaths move Her dangling lace
I stay near Her, nestled in this dress
Of Mother-Earth, the Woman of this slope
Upon which life evolves, as She will bless
In seasons of delight with heart-filled hope
Soon rice will come from heaven’s divine rain
That we will eat in prayer beneath Her feet
These showers of Descent will bring again
Her company, at last, in each heart-beat
For when reborn I know Her grain will fill
My seeking soul, upon this holy hill.