each morning she spreads golden sleeves
embracing the world with sapphire skies
in time she'll dry the tears of grass
then soak the greens with the tears she cries
her numerous children breathe her air
that rustles browning autumn leaves
and in her lakes her creatures bathe
until the day they cease to breathe
in valleys, in oceans, on mountains high
she rests and sometimes strikes with rage
her soul shines bright within us all
she has no form, no name, no age
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