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She appears from up north wrapped in animal hide as waves subside
A vision in arctic ermine, face luminescent like the Fall equinox moon

Calling out for her children lost in the wintry wasteland of cosmic fires

Their names echoing in the caverns of her desolate heart

Feet planted firmly on permafrost - her eyes on the aurora borealis

Psychedelic kaleidoscope across the sky

And the tears that come with snow

Wondering if she will ever come to know

Children floating in space, orphaned by meteors cold

Stellar captives born of desperate romanticism
Of father sol, sister luna, brother brother can you spare a ladder?

Sorrow the color of bloody, muddied linen. Whose?

If you have to ask you know it's not yours to wash

Wash, weep, wallow in the world's sorrow

Snow is polar bear tears mixed with hunter's sweat

The first for fear, the other by the brow

The plump Inuit woman, for her corpulence her tribe's most pulchritudinous

Gives birth to a child, a baby of the universe, a bundle of bliss

In the Arctic wasteland sleeping, a ball of warm contentment being