A black figure silhouetted by the dark horizon.
Arms raised in salutation to the vast black sky.
And between fragile moments, the lady of fates, draws down the flesh of the multiverse.
A wheel of light is born of her command, raining down the stars of possibility.
The cauldron of fate, life and death, bubbles and boils around her.
Red, hot pulsar, manifesting.
The threshold between heaving land, black sky and the sea of fortune is illuminated.
And in vibrant rhythm a world is born into her sovereign arms
A beginning, birth, life, death and decay, all at once and unceasing.
Tangible spirit surging into the vast cosmos.
The lady of the silver wheel guides the hands of those who are, have been and will come to be.
Weaving dreams and fortune with her shining spindle.
She is, she stands, replete and whole unto herself.
The Queen regnant of the Stars.