Incarnate

She is...
A powdery cloud kissing,
The snow-dusted mountain tip.
Serene as the glow,
Of a brilliant Moon.

A museum of wonder;
Tales of primeval days,
Echoing in the voice,
Of the Earth's soul.

An antediluvian melody,
With the power to affix,
The stars in their place,
A destiny divine.

A moment replete,
With a symphony of colour,
And transcendence, the thief...
Of my fragile gaze.

The purity from which,
Love is woven.
She is everything complete.
She is beauty incarnate.

— Tichakunda Michael Majena (24 January 2018)