Savage

I am my mother's savage daughter The one who Runs barefoot Cursing sharp stones I am my mother's Savage daughter I will not cut my hair I Will not lower my voice My mother's child is a savage She looks for Omens in the colors of stones In the faces Of cats, in the falling of feathers In the Dancing of fire, in the colorful bones My mother's Child dancing in darkness She sees hidden swords by The light of the moon And watching the stars And rename the planets In her dreams she can Reach them With a stone and a broom I Am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs Barefoot Cursing sharp stones I am my mother's Savage daughter I will not cut my hair I Will not lower my voice We are all brought forth out the darkness Into This world through blood and through pain And deep In our bowels, old songs are awakened So sing Them with voices of thunder and rain We are Our mother's savage daughters The ones who run Barefoot Cursing sharp stones We are our mother's Savage daughters We will not cut our hair We Will not lower our voice