Women, secret priestesses of the soul and undying dream
Women, secret priestesses of the soul and undying dream,
Whispering ancestral secrets woven in the threads of destiny,
Knowing men like parchments deciphered under the full moon’s glow,
Understanding every hidden longing, each impenetrable dream, and every unspoken whisper.
They weave knowledge from the deep, dark, and luminous recesses of their hearts,
Sensing all that men can become, like storms rising from deep waters or gentle hills,
All they desire, their wishes sculpted in the shadows of unspoken dreams,
All they are, faces shaped from rock and waves, willows swayed by the wind.
Women are architects of destinies shrouded in mystery,
Creating worlds from the butterflies of the soul, laying out landscapes from the beats of our hearts,
Reading us like unwritten verses in ancient psalms,
Dancing their magic around us, crafting cloaks of pure love.
They are those undeciphered enigmas, where each smile is a spell,
Every gesture, a stanza from an archaic poetry, every touch, a sacred incantation,
They know when to lift us up and when to bring us back to earthly realms,
With a love that carries depth and gentleness untold through eternities.
Women are falling stars weaving their light into the horizon,
Reading our dreams and fears like silent constellations,
Nothing escapes them, neither wind, nor storm, nor hidden desire,
They are the poets of life, whose verse is the secret of the universe itself.
In their eyes reflects the entire cosmos, like in azure crystal mirrors,
They extend their soul like a bridge between the temporal and the eternal,
Always knowing what we can become, as they feel our destiny in the silence of infinity,
Becoming our muses and guides, showing us the path beneath starry skies.
Women are those eternal stories, flowing through time like sacred rivers,
Enchanting us with their songs, embracing us with warm thoughts,
Knowing that, in their absence,
We would be wanderers in the night without a beacon, lost in a boundless dream.
Women, wise in silences and dreams, know everything about us,
Like an aurora discovered in a night of secrets,
They read our hearts in the pulse of the universe and the whispers of stellar tranquility,
And thus, through them, we become endless travelers in the eternal light of destiny.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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