Cry with me, Mother, and let our teardrops turn to rock. You can strike me until I shatter into a million pieces: I will become the sands

I could dive into the depths of your mind and watch the vivid world  underneath your surface, those whale songs unspoken and unsung

I see the forests worshipped in their tall grandeur shading families from the scorching sun... From Colombia to Lenapehoking, this is Home