She is a mystery in perpetuity. A whisper in winter that resurrects flowers from their long slumber. In her left hand she holds lightning, in her right she holds thunder. She was conceived with eyes of fire in the company of angels standing beside her. She is the beauty of her mother and the strength of her father; a creation of wonder. She is the softness of silk and the resilience of a tiger. To hold her is to experience rapture and to discover a woman’s true nature. To truly love her and to receive her love is healing undiscovered. In heaven’s river flow the joyous tears that fall from her. Her hair flows over like several willows weeping together.