Why do you fear her so?
That little girl you know you don't know,
who moves the tides and falls the snow.
Hiding face in dark palms,
away from a mothers full milk white,
She wanes and slivers,
Runs to the night.
And the sun, I hear them say,
is the same in a relative way.
And as the years grow short,
she is round and with out retort.
Moon and sun, magnetic kin
With fire heart and stoney skin,
Float through air and ride the seas
to find a world of disbelief.