Thandi, My Bride From the Mountains
They say love is wicked
until I found you, Thandi.
In the mountains of Lesotho,
your eyes broke the silence in me.
My soul had been calling you—
long before I knew your name.
Before you,
I met swindlers dressed as lovers,
actors wearing borrowed hearts.
My trust was torn.
My spirit bruised.
They say you attract who you are—
maybe the fault was mine,
not the image in the mirror.
But you…
you became the deeper cut,
the sacred wound that heals.
Your eyes were an open book.
I saw your Moon in Leo—
bold, loyal, without secrets.
Where were you hiding, Thandi,
when I walked the long avenues
of love and denial?
How far did fate carry you
to bring you home to me?
You brought bliss
into the softest chamber of my heart.
You became my oasis
in the desert of broken promises.
When I am lost,
you pull me into your world—
and our two worlds
become one heaven.
Your kiss—
it sealed a prophecy.
Your embrace—
it told me we belong.
When you whispered
that you lost your mother and father,
my soul trembled.
Remember, Thandi,
I will be father to your wounds,
and guardian to your heart.
And let your spirit remember
this ancient decree:
“What God has joined,
no man shall divide.”
When the mountains speak,
they speak of us.
They speak of union,
of destiny,
of love that refuses to break.
You are my bride from the mountains,
and my soul bows
to the truth of you.
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