Below our feet, while in our hearts, looking up at us
Sensing our presence, in compassion and abundant reply
We live in abject ignorance of her energetic contributions to our lives
We must remain open to her many feelings, her many moods, her multiplicitous voices
Talk to Her people, her children, those to whom she has given birth
If we are to truly understand her, love her, care for her, for ourselves
We must know the stories of her that come through her children's wisdom
The human stories of indigeny, in all their groundedness, glory and recent historical tragedy
We must be willing to hear these stories of life, death, imbalance and harmony
For we will not, for we will never know sustainability without the indigenous intellect come alive in our very beings
Without which we will never know clarity
Without which we will someday, maybe soon, be buried by her in the cemetery of modern time and space
Configured on the day of it's own unholy birth
Let us strip ourselves of the shod safety of scientific insecurity
And walk upon her sacred, beloved countenance
Bearing our indigenous soles to her beauty
For the sake of our indigenous souls.
Feet on the ground - hand in hand with the Ancestors.
We have overcome.