Poetry

Mother Cosmos

Her skin is made of stars

and swirls of cosmic dust,

her hair as dark as the dark side of the moon.

 

The burning amber of her eyes

gives out the sun’s warm rays,

and her tongue whispers the galaxy’s mysteries

and the history of many a forgotten age.

 

During the day you cannot see her,

for she walks among the clouds,

holding council with Mother Earth,

but at night she rests and lets her gown

sprawl out across the sky.