A familiar mystery.
The unknown that all know.
With no particular shape to her face, she is still easy to recognise.
A warrior summoned to attack the dark, and unveil the gift of light once again.
She is the silent promise of better moments.
Nightmares wither away in the face of her calm.
She nestles in the before of everything, a glimpse of perfection.
That which died yesterday will resurrect from her warm kiss.
She may be holding a bunch of roses, or even daggers;
the uncertainty evolves into choice,and with that her presence becomes a chance.
With a profound understanding, she embraces the despaired hearts that wish her away.
Through the winds of rejection, her commitment never wavers.
She exhales an innocence that gives birds courage to fly, and the faith to sing.
Her glory is reserved for survivors.
She is the merciful creation that delivers another try.
The opening prayer for all tongues.
“Morning,” they say.
Published: 2016-01-27 - 18:44:40