The Nebula Weaver

In the tapestry of night where stars ignite,

The Nebula Weaver spins with delicate might,

Her hair a cascade of cosmic streams,

Flowing with the stardust of a thousand dreams.

 

Her gown, a fabric of the universe's own skin,

Adorned with the glow of galaxies within,

She crafts the constellations with a tender grace,

Each thread a pathway through the infinite space.

 

Her eyes hold the depth of the void beyond,

A tranquil pond that reflects the bond,

Between the heavens and the heart's silent plea,

In her gaze, the map of eternity.

 

She weaves the nebulae with threads of light,

Capturing the dance of day and night,

In her presence, the celestial bodies sway,

To the rhythm of the cosmos, in her array.

 

Behold her portrait, where the darkness gleams,

With the light of stars, in her flowing seams,

The Nebula Weaver, a vision to behold,

In the fabric of the stars, her story told.

Done