In whispers of the gentle night,
Mary walks with stars in sight,
Her dreams weave tales of ancient lore,
A wanderer on a distant shore.
Through realms of silver streams she glides,
Where moonlit shadows softly hide,
With every step, her spirit flies,
To skies where endless wonder lies.
Her heart, a compass in the dark,
Guides her through the forest’s arc,
In the silence, she finds her song,
A melody where she belongs.
As dawn unfolds its golden hue,
Mary wakes to skies anew,
Yet in her eyes, the dreams remain,
A journey’s echo, sweet refrain.