There is unity in the chaos Though we see it not. It is the invisible fiber of our skirts Flowing out from legs standing in the field Gathering cotton, or wheat, or corn. We are the gatherers We women of all time. We are the singers and the players Making staccato steps into history And out again; Leaping across dry beds of worn worry Hoping to find waters to fill our need As well as the earthenware pots We balance on our heads As our feet touch down on raw earth. We walk lands of questions While answers grow dust on our window sills. And out of our community of pain We wail our sorrows to the moon And the moon cries back: The only unity is you The only chaos is you You, Woman, must come from the East You, Woman, must come from the South You, Woman, must come from the West You, Woman, must come from the North Come from Above From below And from In Between Gather yourselves on Sacred Ground Spread like the cotton Sway like the wheat Grow like the corn Weave the fiber that spans the Distance That makes you Whole That makes us One.