When the canvas of my life was dimly lit,
You took the brush and painted the sun
and now I wake up to the orchestra of birds, 
the scent of freshly cut flowers 
and my eyes drown in the beauty of lilies. 

Your beauty made a slave of me. 
I am chained to the sound of your voice, 
a sing song that grips the valves of my heart 
and let's the melody flow through my veins 
till my entire body vibrates to each beat.

Next to you, my spirit lay still in the grass
Only floating to the rhythm of the midnight wind.
Your words formed the voice that spoke over my bones
And hardened the skin on my feet 
so I could stamp the earth into submission
And the trees on the mountain top could bow and chant your name.
For you were blessed by He who moves with the cloud.
You were the chosen one, the answered prayer.

I am going to be yours, and you, mine, even if the elders curse
Or threaten to burn us down with the fire of lightning.
I want to look into your old eyes and smile with my toothless gums when you wear your first pair of dentures.
Ready to smile for me once more
with the same radiance as when we first met.
And when the time comes, I hope we can sleep in each other's embrace
And hear ourselves snore one last time
before we hear the angels sing our names.

© Maathe