Happiness is budding grapevines, a hillside alive with dancing blue butterflies, and the autumn's harvest moon a brooch upon the neck of the Earth Mother.

When the flowers bloom and bear fruit in all their glory, with my beloved on the second starry night, with the birdsong of the forest for dawn bells, I feel the gently touch of the Earth Mother.

The sweet yet bitter nectar lights a flame in my heart spanning the stars with the twin moons; the joyous song of the Earth Mother is calling.