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Look, she comes,
As she did when skies
Were barren and devoid
Of all form.
The billion things were
Born from her womb. She is
Perhaps, the mother
Of everything.
Look she comes,
Dragging her enshrouding
cloak behind her,
Covering the land
With a flimsy mantle
Of shadow.
But soon she lays her golden orb
So gently in the darkness,
And scatters her sparkling diamonds
'Cross the sky.
Objects appear much differently
When she casts her light.
Look! the railroad tracks
Appear as needles threading
The eyes of the mountain
She's the sorcerer of the sky,
Possessing the power
To weave spells, beguiling
The world With her illusions,
The enchantress of the firmament.
Gesturing tree limbs seem to
Reach out for her in adoration.
They appear dark blue with
The haze of distance. The black
Earth now shines like metal
In her presence.
The distant hillside
Seems to shimmer
Under the immense canopy of stars
That shine across the vast
Expanse of space.
She pours from her dipper portions of
peace and quiet, and lulls the
World to sleep with dancing,
Hypnotic shadows.
She is the mother of
Mother Earth when the father
Has turned away.
She's the bridesmaid of
Many lovers who become enchanted
By her step daughter, the moon.
The stars are feeling
The soft touch of blue-velvet.
The moon is dropping
Like a New Year's Eve ball.
And she is gone but, where?
Perhaps the morning wind
has blown her away.
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