In a forest 
        or a prison . . . 
 

             My Lady hangs 
             mirrors in our house, 
             magic mirrors 
             blazing out 
             eternity. 
 

My Lady’s name is Grace. 
She walks along behind the tide, 
throwing stranded starfish 
back into the water. 
She talks with clams 
before she cooks them. 
She’s kind that way. 
I think I’ll stick around 
and light her fires. 
 

                                     Deep, deep, 
                                     like a bear’s bite . . . 

              My Lady taught me life. 
              My Lady taught me love. 
              My Lady taught me to be 
              myself. 
 

A bear 
runs through 
her dreams. 

                         Deep, deep, 
                         like a bear’s bite . . . 

      Laughter, 
      my Lady’s laughter, 
      shapes the universe. 

    Love laughter. 
    Bear’s laughter. 
 

A bear runs 
through her dreams 
eating mother, father, 
sister and brother, 
all except My Lady. 
 

                          Do not 
                          leave me, 
                          says the bear. 

Magic mirrors, 
magic mirrors 
do not lie. 

                  Love laughter. 
                  Bear’s laughter. 

                                   My Lady sings 
                                   old juke box songs . . . 

Do not leave me, 
says the bear. 

                My Lady’s Hexagram 
                is K’un, The Receptive. 
                She would flourish 
                in a forest or a prison, 
                in a castle or a desert. 
                She receives life 
                wherever she is. 

Magic mirrors 
blazing out 
eternity. 
 

My Lady’s name is Grace.