In still and dark of night
the mystery begins.
Ancient call that brings her
where once before she's been.

Her legs in sea were wings
on land they struggle so,
laboring, lumbering
to move her body slow.

Where sea has shaped the shore
and ceaseless winds have blown
she signs her name behind her
in writing yet unknown.

As she gives her gifts, she cries.
Are they tears of pain she weeps?
Are they for her children,
children that she will never see?