I call to Ocelus of the fair green hills,
Ocelus of the three rivers, god of the gale,
god of the dusky lands, O faithful one
who fired the hearts of fighter and of farmer
and guarded well the gate; who watched as strangers laid
their great stone walls, who watched their armies fail and fall.
Ocelus, shadowy one, of you we know little,
your stories long fallen from memory,
your images broken and worn; what remains with us,
O constant one, is the love and trust given you
by those whose lives you blessed. I honor you,
O Ocelus; I offer you my praise.