Green is the earth, mother womb of us all,
Myself included. Hay ya aya tokka.
Elements combine to create a mouse,
Perfect with chubby little hands and feet.
I cry when hungry, lonely, or poopy.
Breathe life into me, my mother bison.
White Buffalo Woman, giver of all that is good,
Flow rivers of milk into my belly, and let me live.

Turn the wheel ninety degrees and I have grown.
No longer chubby hands and feet. Wa shee tay.
An adolescent bear am I,
Though it’s really my hormones that are raging.
Milk will not keep me alive, Bison Mother.
Grandfather Eagle, you must care for me.
Soar high, see far. Tell me what you see.
With the blessing of your foresight, I shall live.

The wheel of life must turn; who can stop it from
Turning another quarter turn? Wa shee tay.
Soon I must become a buffalo woman, bison man,
Protector of small ones, giver of life to tiny baby mice.
And grandfather… mouse? His wheel has turned
Already the full 360°. I will care for him,
The life he gave, I will give back to him,
Even if I have to change his diapers and feed him strained peas,
Yet we both shall live.

Grandfather Eagle, can you hear me?
Hay ya aya tokka.
Innocent you have become, free from Worldly cares
That this Buffalo Woman would provide.
Celestial panther in the sky,
The shooting star whose trail you must ride.
My own dear one, see your grandchild’s child.
A new, perfect tiny mouse. Can you hear his cry?
Life goes on, so they say.
Time, life, both are a wheel.
Hay ya aya tokka, all is well.
Ja guru deva, nothing’s gonna change my world.
Wa shee tay, “Dulce et Decorum Est.”