In the desert lands, where the cactus stand, There danced a sprightly fellow, With a flute in hand and a merry band, The playful Kokopelli, so mellow.

He came with the dawn, as the sun adorned, The sky with hues of fire, With each note he’d play, the night gave way, To the day’s vibrant attire.

He had a hump on his back, but lacked no knack, For spreading joy and cheer, A trickster and friend, his legend would blend, In tales both far and near.

Oh, Kokopelli, with a laugh so free, Your tunes bring life anew, To fields of maize, and the summer days, And skies of azure blue.

With his flute he’d call, as the rains would fall, To nourish every seed, And the earth would bloom, dispelling gloom, In answer to his creed.

He’d leap and twirl, in a joyous whirl, As flowers sprang to life, And the animals, from their burrows and halls, Would join his dance, sans strife.

In the moonlit night, under stars so bright, He’d weave a spell so grand, For lovers to meet, and hearts to beat, In time with his sweet band.

Kokopelli, the ancient lore, You’re more than myth, you’re magic, A symbol of growth, of love, of both, In times both good and tragic.

So, here’s to the sprite, in the desert’s light, Who brings the world such glee, With his tuneful flute and his joyful hoot, Long live Kokopelli!

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