Upon her head a crown of copper spun,
A maiden fair, in thoughtfulness profound.
Her gaze, fixed steady on the evening sun,
In wisdom’s depth, and mystery she’s found.
She muses on the cosmos grand and wide,
Its spiraled galaxies of stardust spun.
In cosmic sea, her thoughts, they dare to ride,
With her soul’s light twinned with the distant sun.
“Art we not stardust, formed from cosmic might,
As Shakespeare’s words to human hearts do play?
And, in our minds, we hold the boundless night,
Yet, ’tis bound by human frame and day.”
So, thinks the maiden with the copper hair,
Caught ‘twixt mortal shell and cosmos fair.
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