Oh our Mother the earth, Oh our Father the sky,
Your children are we, and with tired backs
We bring you the gifts you love.
Then weave for us a garment of brightness;
May the Warp be the white light of morning,
May the Weft be the red light of evening,
May the fringes be the falling rain,
May the border be the standing rainbow.
Thus weave for us a garment of brightness,
That we may walk fittingly wher ebirds sing,
That we may walk fittingly where grass is green.
Oh our Mother earth, Oh our Father sky.