Posted by: whiteagle | January 3, 2010

The Warrior’s Bride

A Hope Chest for The Warrior’s Bride
by Myself

I am not contained by This Universe
I am not confined in This Space
I am not limited by My Desires
Instead I am filled with Grace.
I drink from The Cup of Truth yet it remains full
I feed off The Mysteries that never leave The Book
Words never fallen from The Pages
Yet The Read while Strangers look on
Seems dull to some of them, but not me.

I am worthy of The Smiling Face My Beloved brings to me
The glares from distant people and places
Upon such countenances I face
Yet I still report for duty each day.

O Beloved!
How can I love thee more?
How can I truly honor all that becomes me?
If all that is within me is You?
Are you The Engraving?
Am I The Engraver’s Tool?
Who shall we leave our imprint upon
The Drumskin of You or The Skin of The Holy Fool?
I will channel This Answer
I will maneuver This Ship
Upon Rivers ever-flowing
I will stock my arsenal with arms open wide
Ammunitions of a different kind.

No more instructions for devastating wars
Shall be written on these pages again
No dowry will be left behind for The Warrior-Bride to plunder
Only then will The Chest of Hope from eager hearts remain open
To plant The Seeds of yet another flowering-to-behold
In someone else’s Garden.
Aho!

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