She

With hairs of strings,

With the skin of woods,

With eyes of silence,

With her nose popular in Pacific Rim,

With alternate colored teeth,

With percussion beats of heart,

With mouth organ as her organ.

She gets blessed by a person of passion,

Where she exists as a Mystique in this universe.

With Fashion in check, she lives immortal,

By growing young with age.

She gets buried in memory and lives with us intact.

With the breath of the soul, she lives in the beats.

She lives in movements of water,

She lives in the emotions of winds,

She lives in the rage of fire.

She is omnipotent, and measure of health.

She is the caution for the weather, and

She lives in Anatomy of life.

Life starts with her, in a cry, and ends with her with a culture.

She becomes a signal for the deaf, and the world for the blind.

She lives as a beat and remains the cure for many diseases.

She gets heard as OM beyond the earth.

She is the mother of the god,

By pacifying them with lullaby by strengthening

Them with her words.