Roots of Karametra - Karametra’s Praise

The old fields cracked beneath the factories Smoke stitched shadows through the grain We traded rivers for machines And called the poison progress made The roots went silent under concrete The bees forgot the orchard way And every mouth kept shouting louder While the soil slipped away But somewhere underneath the ruin Beneath the oil and severed stone Something ancient kept on breathing Something waiting to be known She does not speak in towers She does not rule through fear Only through seed and rainfall Only through hands held near Praise the mother in the garden Praise the vine against the steel Praise the roots beneath the wasteland Still remembering how to heal Karametra Guide us through the ash and wire Teach us how to feed each other Not the mouths of endless fire Karametra Every forest, every flame Every life returned to balance Every creature speaks your name The children plant beside the ruins Wildflowers through the rusted tracks Turning bomb craters into wetlands Bringing the living water back The healers gather herbs at sunrise The workers tear the fences down And every empty parking lot Becomes another growing ground No kings above the branches No hunger bought and sold Only the shared weight of survival Only the warmth against the cold The earth does not need conquest The earth remembers care Every root becomes a chorus If enough hands meet there Praise the mother in the garden Praise the vine against the steel Praise the roots beneath the wasteland Still remembering how to heal Karametra Guide us through the ash and wire Teach us how to feed each other Not the mouths of endless fire Karametra Every forest, every flame Every life returned to balance Every creature speaks your name We were never seperet Never above the living world Only another branch Another mouth drinking sunlight And the towers will fall someday But the roots will still remain Praise the rivers and the fungi Praise the black soil and the rain Praise the hands that plant tomorrow Though they’ll never see the day Karametra Mother of the broken field Turn our grief into communion Turn our hunger into yield Karametra In the wreckage let us see There was never any salvation Without community