Hot salt tears.
And her sobs
Shake our foundations.
Can't you hear our mother weep?
We, her children
Born of her soil,
Put together with twig
A blade of grass,
And the voice from a song bird,
Don't listen.
Forgive us.
Let your mighty rivers
Cleanse us.
Let your hot, earthy, tears
Reach us.
Let us feel what we don't hear!
