Pagan Poetry

In Honor of Mother Earth By: Elizabeth Barrette

As Her body is our body

From bone of rock to blood of brine,

There can be no true division

Between the people and the land.

We see ourselves in all the world.

As Her body is our body.

From breath of wind to kiss of rain,

we speak with Her words and Her voice.

She is our first inspiration,

Our second nature, our last hope.

As Her body is our body,

From seed of grain to womb of field,

Our joys and griefs return to us.

Pledging ourselves to Her service,

We only reap what we have sown

For Her body is our body.

 

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