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Poem

Who is she who has stained my heart?

Who is this woman of glory, valor, and virtue?

She, like a melodious instrument, plays songs of wonderment that my soul enjoys.

She with joyous harmony completes my every measure of symphony.

Who is her who has spoken my name in a language I have never heard?

Who is her who embodies my justice, my peace, my abnormalities? Like a calculable equation she is the invisible function to my relationship with God.

Like a grand sword her edges are sharp yet still in my hands. Like an eternal flame we ascend, smoking out our impurities and causing them to thin out in the air.

Who is she? Who is her? Who are we?

We, incompatible compatibility complete each other's cycles, words, phrases, and dramatic soliloquies. 

Lovely lullabies kissing the tongues of our inner ears - like a choir we now sing jubilantly in desperation of finding each other.

Who am I? 

I am not her. She is not me. 

Total belonging is key and everything we desire to be, we are. 
All that we desire to do, we become.

And we, the stuff of each other's greatest dreams are outcast from the world's Sorrows and become something else. 

Yet, we still are very far apart, singing songs on different oceans - staring out into deep blue aquatic territories, exchanging love languages from separate rivers. Deep we go into the 6th and 7th Heavens inspiring Angels...

Higher we climb into dimensions unspeakable, toning out the sights and sounds of Forces greater than we. So high up the altitude seems to be where we began. 

Our spiritual coordinates dissect abomination, destruction, and peril. The map of my She-wonder floats majestically in the wind. I too float. 

"Where am I?" She plainly asks. 

"In me," I reply, "in my prayers."

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