It is special, and precious,
for it is chosen by Inanna
To us, it is far more special and precious,
for it is chosen by us
The heavens are filled,
with the symbol of it's Goddess
To number the stars is a task,
ever incomplete
A lifetime would not be misspent,
by staring evermore
Into the reflection of eight pointed lights,
dancing upon its face
Searching for the perfection hewn,
from rough born clay
Brought forth by the knife of her chosen,
rendered whole in mind
By her soft word and assurance,
ushered forth from its lips.
