The Earth beats her rooted drum, Her echoes venture far and wild. Her rhythm stems from deep within, And from within, she melds Nature's pile.
She toils and shapes both land and sky, Her work relentless, a force to fear. Her touch is blind, a vision of remission, Even to those, who are near and dear.
Now the time has come to dredge within, Her soothing bosom, that breeds new Life. To the abysmal dust, we shall turn in, To return what's hers, to end our strife.
