She ties the soul
with ageless silver threads of moonbeam glow,
pouring out satin beams of lucid dreams
from her star sprite's enchanted jar.
It flowed so freely
first into ancient rivers
as the light of hope and love,
tasted by the spirits
born of Atlantis hearth,
turning to a flood of tears
when its waters churned a brew
of arrogance's wine,
as hearts became drunk
in their own delusions of divinity.
The Gods pouring out their own purging wrath,
while she wept over her creation,
being Mother Nature her first passion,
never losing a parent's care for all her offspring.
Silently, still filling the night
by all the spellbound charm of belief
that her ethereal fingers can infused,
for nothing can keep her from wanting
eyes of her children
able to see more magic than darkness
in their lives and the worlds
where the mind travels beyond any doors.
Silver trophy winner
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