Night has come on her swift legs to surprise the maiden,
sleeping on the rock overlooking a great many souls;
the spirit cupped in the deep of her curved palms,
simply sitting fearless in uncertain boundaries.

Lifting her chin to the darkness which envelops
her whole being like a shroud of living hope true,
where one is crushed in heaviest confusion;
she stands slowly asserted with the power of all.

In her eyes, sister of Phoebus shines faint it seems;
source of life extended beyond the might of day;
not so says she, gray perhaps in others’ view
infinite in tones to her, the chord is ever strong.

Through the wave above, the shine grows greater
into the mind of the one who knows and feels;
the source of an ever reaching road of many
paths unbeatable, young, teenager, adult, old.

She knows no death with her heavenly accomplice;
lifting her gaze to a sister deeply loving, caring, 
against a somber backdrop of night and cruel mysteries;
regrouping onto her center the fire burns exquisite.

On the rock so dear, no need to stir a fiber living;
up, gray, endowed with a dim jealous glimmer from the day;
a mere wink encourages delight to her awesome cohort,
peace to the goddess, all is well all around, you may sleep now.