In the eve, it is said, the woman weeps like the willows. It is shown she rises like the sun. She sings to the north winds.
On the daybreak, it is said, she walks in simplicity, taking each breath with the land.
No corners in her mind, no ache of her heart, for the water quenches her deepest thirst for truth.
So it is said, the lover sits quiet. No words can shed the forests dark edge.
The dragonflies subtle wings vibrate, the song is never missed in her soul.
Gathering wisdom and way by the fireside, she keeps with her bamboo flute carving.
In the wings of the owl, covering her to sleep, she dreams deep.
To the sky the Elders speak, the eagles bring a great change of gravity.
Come they! Soar and touch the sacred peak.
Harmony is the sound of man and beast.
They teach, they protect.
Stand tall woman, as it was said.