We were molded in corn masa
With our shoulders and round face.
The sparkles in our eyes
Our hearts that keep us young.
Our minds awakened
Filled with dreams from our peyote sun.
In reverence and return
We journeyed to that land.
Where the good medicine sprang
In the footsteps where grandfather deer tail ran.
Circle within a circle holds the face
A doorway that opens us to our grace.