This poem is dedicated to the love and lion of my life...
....
And why may we not call ``the heart'' that irascible power of the soul, which is the warrior fighting for and foraging through the dust to shine brave as the sun, seizing all things sleeping in the shade and devouring it with the strength of his light….
This is the man, I love.
in a living stream, his hands, his heart
a companion of the flying and fallen angels who traverse the ladder
climbing world to conquer the wall
that divides him from the victory
of living Humble,
and great….
And this is how he wins it all.
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