Heart

Heart

The dawn comes to waken me to a new day dawning.

    Beams of sunlight across the pillow lay, flowing as the water falls.  Think you this be not a painting.  For only I can see this

  wondrous work of art.  Softly sleeping is she that holds my heart.  I stare down in wonder at this early morning sight.  Yet I wonder, what is this power that sleeps so softly next to me.

I sometimes wonder what would be my fate.  If not for her by my side; what would have I become.  Who would calm my rage that ravages my night.  Would I continue the sweat and pain of that which is my work.  Could I have lived at all with this poison in my veins; without her gentle hand which guided me each day.  Just one

flash as our eyes met.  I would have climbed the highest mountain for her with just a smile to give.

Yet years turn to decades, time has turned to sand.  What then will happen when the crystal glass is empty. Standing alone without her eyes upon me. Frightening to even think of one day passing.  Would I wish another breath of life to take, for she that shared it is no longer there 

So gentle be the touch of this mighty spirit.  Yet all the years had passed and I thought myself strong.  For it was not my strength that told me of this power.  It was the beams of the sun that flowed as the water fell, across the pillow next to me.  For there in that bright sunlight, was she who held my heart...

©2008 2011 Words the Windows to the Soul