She is fragile like a human heart
but strong like the spine of a book.
She is the chaos of the ocean depth
and sangfroid in a babbling brook.
She is far away among the stars, but
seems close to you like phosphenes.
She can't be touched with bare hands
but can be fathomed in naked poetry.
Her bones are made up of haiku
and sonnets' blood run in her veins.
She is the dance of summer wind and
songs sung by the earth when it rains.
She is loud like ear piercing silence
while she speaks the tongue of peace.
She is the cool shelter under tree and
the warmth in the December breeze.
She fights like roaring waves of ocean
but she loves like the moon to the night.
She owns the whole world, and everything
belongs to the universe in her eyes.