The Steadfast Warrior
for A.W.E
The heart
speaks
When the tongue
cannot,
Unburdened by
time, or space, or place,
Or thought.
Its language
flows in streams
From star to
star, I think,
From heart to
heart
In deep,
mysterious ways.
Your words grow
clearer now,
You and the one
you journeyed with,
(She of the
silver tongue)
Who braided
words together,
Letting them
fly
Like darts,
like arrows,
Like brightly
colored birds,
While you stood
silently beside.
You spoke a
language all your own
Through your
eyes, your deeds,
Through the
wisdom in your hands,
Those hands!
Which gentled
animals and children,
Fashioned
delicate bits of feathers, beads and string,
Fired rifles, carved wood,
Swung a pick ax
against the rocky land.
And though your
words were few,
With one small
smile, I knew you knew
All I wished to
hide!
Ashamed, I was
not worthy of your integrity.
Steadfast
warrior,
Your sturdy
shoulders bore so much
In silence.
Battered by
many blows
Along the path,
Still you rose,
again and again.
And now your
heart, set free,
Speaks in my
own.
Together with
she who stands beside
You light a
pathway
Through the
stars
For us who come
behind.
You carried me
then, and carry me still,
And now I carry
you as well.
You gave us
life, and love, and name,
You the candle,
she the flame.
