Jetpacks on, flap those wings with ease,
And aim beyond the outermost layer.
Zeppelins will do, or a blimp if you please –
You and I shall come across the moon chaser.

Any sound of silence can lead us straight to her.
I know it, for she's always been a familiar song,
Rewritten over and over,
As the diurnal storms prolong.

Moonlight shines the brightest on this day,
As its chaser was born a decade and eight ago.
Right now she paves her own way,
In hopes of surpassing the lunar halo.

She came from where the wildflowers grow,
Often surrounded by the people she needed.
Like an ocean, she was never shallow,
On land, her feet are always grounded.
May she become who she wants to be,
Once she reaches the moon's gravity.
Nevertheless, let us see her fly!