what does she do with her hands?
they lie in her lap, and her tapestry falls to the floor
  
when the woven basket that carried food to the table
breaks under the weight of time,
my daughter will starve

what does she do with her hands?
they lie in her lap, and her tapestry falls to the floor

when the clay that sculpted gods
is dried and cracking and lacking water,
my son too will die of thirst

what does she do with her hands?
they lie in her lap, and her tapestry falls to the floor

when the leaves that adorned the pillows of our bed
burn up in the fire of technology's rumbling belly
there will be no desire to touch the world

and what should she do with her hands?
she must pick them up from her lap
and heal the earth.