Maati

Your mud-crusted arms smell of the earth

Your brow is beaded with sweat from the overhead sun

Your slender arms have the power and

Strength of many men

Even your shade comforts many

It is with your flute that you light the cooking fires

(women often blow into stoves with pipes to light them)

It is when you touch the strings that life moves

And flows

The sunlit crops are your ornaments

You are like the sun-baked earth

Your skin is the color of dusk

Through the long dark nights you are the light

Of dawn

While you stay awake like the candle that

Burns through the night

The winds salute you, the seasons hail you

The dust of the earth adorns you, you are the

Flowing current

Nurturing this earth

In your tired breath lie the sounds of conch shells

Hopes as blue as the skies have many wings

And their possibilities are reflected in your eyes