The moon, a priestess in the sky,
Draws down her light as spirits fly.
She holds the space, the breath between,
Where seen dissolves into unseen.
Release all now - both flame and dust,
The echoes lost beyond the past.
Cast them to the boundless skies,
To fade,to transform,to crystallize.
The pink moon calls—she feels it rise,
With stardust gaze and twilight eyes.
A soul reborn from shadows deep,
Now waking from the cosmic sleep.
From the ashes born, a tale untold,
A guided journey, daring and bold.
In ember's gleam, a spirit takes flight,
A phoenix rising to the heavens' height.
For time is but a breath on air,
A shifting veil, a dream most rare.
And though the blossom turns to dust,
Its whispered glow still shines in us.
Wild sister, rising soft and high,
With silver breath across the sky.
You call me where the wild things sing,
And stir the soul to spread its wings.
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