We walk beneath the silver moon,
Three hearts, one silent tune.
The snow may fall, the wind may cry,
But never alone do we walk the sky.
Our braids are woven with whispered prayers,
Feathers gifted from midnight airs.
We carry the stories of women before,
Their footsteps echo on frozen shore.
When one of us falters, the others stand tall—
A circle unbroken, we rise through it all.
When sorrow weighs heavy, and words fall apart,
A sister will hold you, heart to heart.
Not born of blood, but born of soul,
We gather each other and make each one whole.
In laughter, in tears, in the stillness between,
We are the light that the cold cannot screen.
And when the long night asks who we are—
We answer in song, like the northern star.
“We are the ones who do not flee,
For love walks stronger when it walks in three
