Her Light Like the Thunder

Her light is like the thunder,
thrown off like brazen brands of burning spears
which pierce the neb'lous shields of wicked spirits.
This light is for all,
that none need fear the fiends.
This torch She, the sun-carrying one
carries bright as charioteer
'cross the daily heavens.
And she is wrath turned regal
each burning moment
on beam on blessed beam of lawful light
disperse the night of evil shadow.
She rides the reins as fire's valkyrie.
Heaven's warrior, sky's flame's maiden,
more-than-formidable queen of bluest arches.
Her many fingers fiercely point
the paved path of good,
yet ill she all incinerates,
merciless, to those who mercy lack.
The light of her holy warmth is not to be gainsayed.
She is a Lady, She is a Soldier of the searing pyre
whose blazes march the paths of the pure.
Feel her phoenix-flame and shudder,
shake off all remaining dust of ill
and worship. Worship fire of heaven's seas'
charging maiden, Mani's kin.
She is the day's angry benevolence,
the evening's artist in scarlets.
Make way for the golden magma-crowned Queen of Day.
Hail Sol!