Dense waves fell away
to the murmured mantra psalm

Dilated, Her silver face
and the black of space beyond

The tides obey Her delirious phases,
She controls through grace alone;

O Luna, be the firm Foundation
where I lay my crooked cornerstone

A new day or a dead tomorrow,
will I dream or will I dawn?

Will I be bound by my sorrows
until my days are gray and worn?

When the Crone dies and crowns the Maiden,
Mother will you bear me home?

O Luna, be the firm Foundation
where I lay my crooked cornerstone