Crystal teardrops from the Moon,
Frost in the air.
Lady we beseech thee,
Hear our prayer.

The tide is high,
Caught in eternal ebb and flow;
Starlight from above,
The way to show.

Blessed Lisaera,
Soft-spoken Divine.
Hallowed Crone,
Silver Lady, ever refined.

Hear our voices,
Lifted upon high.
Lady we beseech thee,
Heed our rallying cry.

All ‘cross the Wilde,
Whispers of Your name.
Return to our perception,
Our hearts proclaim.

Mother Moon continues to shine,
We look to the sky.
Wondering if you could ever
Possibly tell us why.

Ageless enlightment,
Wisdom unknown.
The depths one might see,
In eyes like blue stone.

Blessed Lady Lisaera,
Beloved of our forest home.
We lift our voices in a resounding plea,
Be not simply a notation in tome.

Bless the Wilde once more,
With your eternal loving gaze.
Be not forever gone,
Never to return in all our days.

Ethereal Lady, Hallowed Crone,
Changeable as the wind in tempest.
With arms open wide,
We are Moon-kissed.

Lady, we beseech thee,
Hear our prayer.
Be more than simple memories,
And Moondust in our hair.