Up on the hilltops
Your chilling breath providing relief
From the too close summer sun
Thanks be to Mother Mountain
Low in the valley
Rushes sweet, cool water
Quenching our thirst for life
Thanks be to Mother Mountain
There on those sliding slopes
Perch the choke-cherry trees
With bark to ease any pain
Thanks be to Mother Mountain
Up, above, around and below
Thick trees for shade in which
The succulent strawberries grow to quiet stomachs
Thanks be to Mother Mountain

Oh, how your rays bathe
To give warmth to guard
From Mother Mountain’s icy breath
Thanks be to Father Sun
Deep in the valley you bake
The ever present sage
Brush, scent to be brought alive by rare rains
Thanks be to Father Sun
Oh, there in Mother Mountain’s
Deep crevice, where-ever the running rivers dare
Pause, you warm it so we may bathe
Thanks be to Father Sun
All around and about, on sparse sand and
Through thick trees you provide the
Light to feed the berries and the choke-cherry leaves
Thanks be to Father Sun

Oh, but the time for Father Sun
Must die, and so he turns the watch
Over to his ever caring son
Thanks be to Brother Moon
He who holds all our secrets safe
Whether they be the love of the young,
Or the laments of those who leave tears in the dark
Thanks be to Brother Moon
The children lay their heads to rest
On beds of sand and pillows of needles of pine
Squirrels dash to holes in trees, under his silent witness
Thanks be to Brother Moon
Oh, the secrets he knows are what brings him to life
The most sacred of which are those
Of brothers and sisters, free to his ears
Thanks be to Brother Moon