We are the tribe that is running
to the four corners and the centre
to bring together the pieces
that will mend a broken world

We are the tribe that is restless
Unceasingly we make the journey
Outward and inward
Attaining, only to surrender
In the name of all that is holy

We are a tribe without a country
because we live on blessed land
beneath the circle of Heaven
And the seeds of our labour
bear a honey-sweet fruit

Oh, we have been forgotten
the glory gone to others
who shrewdly amass
their wealth and power

They sit in sumptuous homes
feasting and cavorting
(on the carcass of suffering)
and generally amusing themselves

But quietly the tribe is gathering
the hard-earned wisdom
of over two-hundred thousand years
And its light is rising
Like a mighty wave

March 27th 2005.