The Sacred Dance
With the smell of Sage,
I write this page,
Like grass in the Savanna,
Our seeds fell from the sky,
We pure light, blue black in the night,
And now for our soul we fight,
We are the water of life,
And like the grass in green might,
We stand with our hands to the sky, we worship the son,
And the wind of rhythm sending us into the sacred dance,
Giving this world a second chance,
We the travelers of old,
Dancing to save the world, with Rhythm.
Copyright © Woodrow Lucas | Year Posted 2011
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