"slowburn" poems
She is the quiet champion
Nothing but the Truth and it shall make us free;
The pensive fighter, she sits, eyes down and mind a hunter for that Truth
to liberate her and me and us and all until It's done.
Eyes dart and heart beats on slowburn
the embers glowing hot in the center, waiting to blaze and lick and lap at the danger
as sword and shield are drawn and Jabberwock is slain
and then a slight grin a hug a sparkle in the eye as
-The monster's head in her hand-
She returns to her Truth and her love and the soft glow
of the quiet champion's eyes as they look to those around her
and the sword and shield in the corner for the next monster
the smile returns, the eyes kindle, the task manifests
and the work begins again--quiet and pensive the Gladiator
marches toward the Truth with her friends
peaceful except for the footsteps
and the whispers
and the love
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 10:08 PM UTC