Raw and bleeding,
Weak and needing,
The arms of stronger love,
White and red,
Skin is shed,
Gnawing away again,
Transparent shards of glass,
Cut deep from other’s bursting heart,
Blood long turned brown,
Still staining the ground,
At the feet
Of One,
Who,
Hurting,
Crying,
Changing,
Running,
Towards the Source,
Beauty,
Runs down in pools of water,
From a holy heart,
Mixing with the gore,
Like watercolor,
Shows a different scene,
A banner in the war,
Over all the carnage,
It took to get there,
Strength in every skirmish,
Broadswords only given,
To the killer of giants,
Bearer of most pain and weight,
Likeliest to casualty,
A favorite of Glory,
Sun so bright,
Off boots and mail,
He will not fail,
But Save,
And win,
And Raise,
The banner of blood,
As much of his as other’s.
And make more,
Lovers of Light.

May ravens sing to you
May they brighten Winter's dreary walks
As fallen leaves crunch beneath your feet
And the sky grows a melancholy gray
May cheerfulness run forth to greet you
With happy, outstretched arms
May no rain or darkness sadden your day
May only beauty, wishes, and dreams
Dance inside your head
Happy Birthday, Dad!

**~Marian~