A fantasy poem

I have envisioned the fire dust of her brave wings
and I have heard her metatronic voice of kind
she lives in linear time, across galactic spheres
at the pulpit of the sun, and moon's adhere

In her galactic matrix, is a wavespell spiral
that suffuses, golden energy and verve
Redundant by nature she travels very light
turning copper into gold, she never grows old

I decided to push the pendulum of disbelief
and trust the voice inside that says "believe"
she lives in linear time, across galactic spheres
and every time I trust, she suddenly draws near.