Under the Mother Moon
The night hums with the song of beginnings,
soft as the heartbeat beneath the stars.
Life returns to life,
a circle unbroken, eternal in its grace.
The Great Spirit breathes through her silence,
and the wind carries her prayer of love.
In her arms rests tomorrow—
fragile, sacred, whole.
From her strength, the world remembers,
that gentleness is the oldest power,
and love—
The first language ever spoken.
The night hums with the song of beginnings,
soft as the heartbeat beneath the stars.
Life returns to life,
a circle unbroken, eternal in its grace.
The Great Spirit breathes through her silence,
and the wind carries her prayer of love.
In her arms rests tomorrow—
fragile, sacred, whole.
From her strength, the world remembers,
that gentleness is the oldest power,
and love—
The first language ever spoken.
Under the Mother Moon
The night hums with the song of beginnings,
soft as the heartbeat beneath the stars.
Life returns to life,
a circle unbroken, eternal in its grace.
The Great Spirit breathes through her silence,
and the wind carries her prayer of love.
In her arms rests tomorrow—
fragile, sacred, whole.
From her strength, the world remembers,
that gentleness is the oldest power,
and love—
The first language ever spoken.
0 Commenti
0 condivisioni
67 Views
English
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek