To see the tops of the mountains felt blissful.
A song heard to all , they came.
They could only see her. They felt her but she wasn’t to be touched.
She adjusted her crown and she wasn’t to be touched.
She moved to her own tune, her own beat. And she wasn’t to be touched.
Gracefully appearing to those who heard her call.
They felt her ambience dancing in her eyes. Beaming with color, golden milk and honey.
As she adjusted her crown, she wasn’t to be touched.
