Ceres, mother of the Earth
Athena, of cerebral birth
Juno, queen of all the gods
Vesta, pure against all odds
Virgo woman, faith bequeaths you,
standing proud amongst your sheaths.
Cunning service, gifts of grace,
in all fields is your place.
Virtue’s reason, mind and soul,
You plant the seed. You help it grow.
You till the soil and prune and weed.
You are the soil. You are the seed.
A snow-white light on field’s relief
reflects upon divine belief.
The image of a wishful star:
A steady shine — but still so far.
The nights of hope; the days of pain.
And on and on, that old refrain.
We are the lung, the gut, the spleen.
We are all we’ve known, foretold and seen.
We are the truth that marches forth,
boldly speaks, rebukes false swords.