She is entranced in the little, endless hums of the night, they are soft spoken mysteries, gentle whispers in the wind by the poet’s pen in stroke of the fabric of pages with visions written by sonorous hums of the deep sea arms of the cosmos in a flower undying, opening in the eyes of the one who have known the dark to cherish the light, unfading in bloom, she rises from the long, waking daydream, drifted by the seas of the moon to the shore, where she rests, gazing upon the tides until the sun is in advent, the earth awakens, deeper than stars, the unsullied sleep and breathe, they too, are timeless.