She rises, ancient as the whispering wind,
in the quiet of dawn, where light first meets the sea,
a dance of stars in her eyes,
her breath was a lullaby to the earth
Veins of rivers trace her skin,
each curve is a story,
each scar is a map of the soul’s journey
she is the keeper of secrets,
the bearer of the sun’s golden promise
With hands that weave the threads of time,
she molds dreams from the clay of the universe,
breathing life into the forgotten,
resurrecting the echoes of the moon’s silent weeping
Her voice, a hymn sung to the rhythm of the cosmos,
carries the weight of ages,
the wisdom of the oak,
the patience of the stone
She is the sacred well,
a font of endless love,
where the weary come to sip,
to cleanse, to be reborn
In her gaze, the truth of all things,
a reflection of the divine,
a mirror of the mysteries that lie
beyond the veil of the waking world
She embodies the pulse of creation,
the heartbeat of the wild, serving
as a bridge between the heavens
and the earth, she is the sacred woman,
eternal, infinite, and whole—-
Copyright © 2024 Sherley Delia | All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 