You are of the soil,
The blood runs in your veins as the rivers to the seas,
The fire in your heart rages, so as to burn away all doubt,
And allows your intellect to soar upon the breeze,
Your will is cast in iron, set in stone, 
Your wit is sharpened to a razors edge,
You took the shadow at your heart and named it as your own, 
And in so naming took control of all the danger of that inky wretch, 
You are driven by compassion, you are driven by integrity,
To step forth into this world and stand at your full height, 
No slave to fad or fashion, nor doubt and insecurity, 
But devout to principle of being just and right,
You see clear to the stars, though you stand upon this humble earth, 
Eyes upon celestial light, feet upon the clay,
Knowing only you can truly judge the measure of your worth, 
Before the hole is dug in which you must lay.