Poem--He is…

Like some fallen Eaglet—
Wounded, yet unbeaten, unbroken…
Spirited—fire in his eye!
Denying his need for a tender touch
To heal the festered wounds of Fate—
A Fighter—a prince of the sky…

Like some touching melody
Soothing, tender: a tune
Unconsciously hum, in solitude;
Simple, yet, vibrant…alive!
Echoing in my heart—
A song of Hope or Tears?

Like some cryptic Oracle:
All-knowing—an uncanny wisdom,
Stripping away every veil, every mask—
Revealing myself to me—the naked face;
Each word as a resounding incantation:
A truth I knew, yet did not know…

Like some delicate fragrance
Sans source, sans direction…
A haunting, elusive presence—
A hint, a waft in every breath…
Pervading my consciousness:
Around me? Within me?

As fragrance, as instinct, music or thought,
No sense unaware—or un-subdued…
Omnipresent—yet constantly awaited…
Conquered, I know nothing but You…
Yet, my Love—Do I know You?
Or, more truly, do I know you as Mine?