We have a sister,
who lives in beauty;

Everywhere she walks
flowers bloom;

All her songs she sings
- to the winds.

God does not need our prayer
we need our prayer.

the cold sea harr rolls up the valley
singing her song;
all cuddled in their winter nests;
the grass stalks knitted by mice.
Time has shed her summer clothes
wearing now a flint face; Bowed
head into months of toil with wind.
The cold sea harr would enter your
nest, if you bade her welcome. And
she is welcome, but not in your bed.

Silence nurses her children
sweet milk from her breast
while watching on with love.

Silence, the Universal womb
cradles her children; in deep repose.

Each drop of rain arrives to bless the soil
we too are blessed with life sustaining.
The thread running through all creation
where nothing is lost or inconsequential;
Sister sky knows us all as one loved family.

Radical change along the path of mundane;
takes belief in a higher power, ultimately;
and then to step forward on your new journey,
in faith and hope of loves solicitude.