Barefoot Goddess

Come lay your fresh fruits by her blistered feet,
Bring in the best of your harvest to her tattered stall,
Then build for her a temple, a home for her tired limbs.
Change her worn clothes to soft silk and warm wool.
Then make a feathered bed to lull her to dream worlds...

Here comes the barefoot goddess, wrinkled and baked.
Soon it would be too late, and all that is left will be the
Curse of her fate, an echo of all our lives.