With smell of salt and crashing waves,
Deep inside her midnight eyes,
She spins the stars into the place
Of gentle darkness, quiet night.

She sends the rivers through the land
Around the gnarled, ancient trees,
Which bend their branches to her hand,
As she rides the autumn breeze.

She dances with the morning light
And sings into the evening wind,
She lifts the birds into their flight
And shapes the rainbow’s bend.

She whispers to the small spring flower
And in her hand it blooms,
The earth is born within her power,
You will feel her soon.