In the dawn it was easy to look at her and say
That she looked beautiful like a tender array
Of moss and dew fallen from the light
Of poetry and milk churned to a white
But night came and always the gaze in her eyes
Glared with a fearful heave of burning sighs
That easily consumed eons of time
Scattering their ashes in the sky’s soundless chime
The light and the dark in her can foretell
The eternal circle and the binding spell
Of a world spinning in harmony and strife
In the breast of her whose name is Life
Rooted in Love 