| Marae', Great Mother of the earth, blue-robed, sun-starred by day and silver banded by the moon at night, from whose warm womb All-Being birthed, to whose cold beckoning arms all streams of life return, In humbleness along the frothing margins of your skirts, I raised my altars, strewed on my dead your many-petaled golden flowers. The flowers faded and the altars crumbled into dust, and who You were and are, oh Great Beginning and Unending End, has slipped these many thousand years, beyond the fickle minds of men. |
