Orange, red and yellow,
Dancing in their place,
Frolicing at sundown,
With Mother Maya's grace

Above storm clouds approach,
Firm on bringing rain,
To submerge the fire
That's capering in vain

Screams are heard from heaven,
Squired by bright light,
Alerting everyone
To stay inside tonight

As the wails resonate
Trees lash, flare and brace
Spawning dancing colours,
With Mother Maya's grace.

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Mayan, in the year 484 AF.