An ode to honest men, to men with strength
Men who heal and nurture
Men with magic in their blood and love in their hearts
Feminists, and creatives, and artists
Romantics who look out at a rainy city and see beauty amidst the dark and despair
Men who do not run from what they feel, what they think
Who they are
Who fan the fires of their passion but not let it destroy what they yearn for, but rather bring warmth and light into the lives of those who need it most
Men who think of women as goddesses, queens, suns and stars and moons
Who see women in the white foam of a crashing wave or in the deep, thickened roots of a tree hundreds of years old
Men who can take a women who is cautious, skittish, buried inside herself, struggling to claw through the dirt, men who take a shovel and find her
Grab her hand in theirs and lift them to the air
Who feed the souls of their friends and their lovers with kindness and tenderness
Men who aren't afraid of a woman with a roar, with long claws, and a sharpness in her eyes
Men who stand beside the wolf of every woman and feel graced by her howl
Clarity in their words and truth in their touch
Men who love without inhibitions, who can find intimacy in the quiet moments between friends
This is an ode to the honest men, to men who grow like trees
Up and up and up, stretching their branches and bringing life to the world around them