The girl’s hair flows night
Her eyes shine day
While her skin is dawn.
She stands with the boy
His blue eyes turned upward
Trying to memorize her face
But he won’t remember
Once the morning comes.

Under her hands is a plank
Of shining cedar wood,
And it expands and bends
Into a gleaming harp, strung
With shining horse-hair strings.
And she glances downward
And smiles with sunset lips,
And the boy shivers.

And the girl strums on those
Gleaming light brown strings
And music spreads out across
The empty land, calling.
The boy wonders who she is
And who she is calling for.
She is calling, calling, and the
Notes echo back to the callers.

And then the woman arrives
And cries out, rushing across
The field with arms open wide.
The boy runs forward, and
When he reaches his mother
They speak hurredly; she
Smoothes his brown hair
And hugs him close to her.

And he is puzzled when his
Mother cannot see the girl,
Standing right next to them with
Her gleaming harp, now silent,
But he leaves it alone, and
In a moment the two of them
Are leaving hand in hand,
The Mother keeping him close.


And the girl simply smiles-
That sunset smile, set against
That sunrise dawn smooth skin-
And strums her harp, just once.
Protector of children, goddess of
Everything,
She turns her eyes to the sky
And sings to the stars.