“Limu Mountain, our Mother Limu,

What are your shoes made of? The sea is your shoes.

What is your belt made of? The green pine is your belt.

What is your hat made of? The stone is your hat.

The firepit is where your soul rests, and where we were born.

We are your children, bound together; the blood-red roots will guide us home to your embrace.

Limu Mountain, our Mother Limu,

What makes you silent? What brings your death?

Limu Mountain, our Mother Limu, where will we go?”