The Mother who has made this world,
Has not forsaken her children.
Tis she who brings the sun each day,
And puts it to bed every evening.

The patriarchs who run the show,
Have tried to bury her glory,
But birds that sing and seeds that sprout,
In praise do repeat her story.

Her fertile womb has spawned our race,
In ancient times we adored her.
But politics and religion,
Have convinced us to ignore her.

We need our Mother desperately,
Right now even more than ever.
So let us call on her as we,
In our daily lives endeavor.

When troubles feel too much to bear,
And your life seems not worth living,
Turn to her, let her lift you up,
Look at all the gifts she's giving.