Walk
I walk with you in the gentle caress of heaven, weeping tears of
life.
I offer my coat as warm, impregnible protection from the chill
and damp of the moist humid air,
but you refuse.
Pointing out a sturdy oak with a myriad of outstreached
leaves to shelter us from the rain, I offer to seize that
shelter, and let patience outlast the storm,
but you refuse.
I offer the suggestion of hastening our pace so that we may
reach our quarters sooner, I even entertain the idea of
carrying you to a cozy rustic cabin, nestled deep in the
fragrant woods,
yet, you still refuse.
Walking together beneath the soft sweet tears of the heavens above,
I see you for the very first time.
Mystical orbs of sapphire flame, that could only be your eyes,
dance to spite the clinging wetness.
A delicate hand unconsciously fingers a lock of gold, long since
invaded by the searching water, while we subtly hasten to
reach our goal.
Sweet breath and crimson lips mouth unheard words of anger --
Oh, but your spirt flame is fed by the trials of life,
stubborn to the very end.
All I know is that you are beautiful,
and before I know it,
You are in my arms,
holding tightly
not refusing.
