Guardian in A Quiver

who i am.

Rider of the storm let it be my horse and I will

Ride it out, every cloud and every source of my

Tears. I will ride it away into the sun. Knowing

That my journey has just begun.

 

Ghost of Love I will be, giving aid and love in the

Night, shining a constant light put in my heart by

The Lord himself, always there when I’m needed

Disappearing, alone, to nurse my own wounds.

 

Warrior I already am, with each punch is heard the swish

And the bam in my eternal battle with loneliness and

The achings of my own heart. Flips, dodges, cartwheels,

Strikes, is my constant dance.

 

Though blows may strike my shield and swords may come

An inch within my soul. I will not yield, I will roar like a

Lion at my enemies let thunder and lightning frame me

Picture perfect in the dark of night.

 

I will do this, though I know I am but a lamb before my God.

For he is my golden mane, and big cats tooth. It is his love

That sharpens my teeth and tests my muscles. Through fire

And water I will go and not be harmed, remaining untouched.

 

Savage and wild I will wield my Lord’s gifts for his glory,

Quickly ripping through hordes of the enemy. Spirit teeth

Bared I will fight for the weak. Untiring in my mission,

Waiting on the Lord’s timing.

 

But I wonder; though, these large clawed paws are strong.

Why then do they also wish to groom softly the downy

soft fur of a cub? Though they are lethal, they are also gentle

Knowing how to love trained through wounded ghosthood.

 

Amusing how even a lion can feel the oxen’s yoke. ‘Tis strange

How I find myself wishing for a lioness, a rider of the storm

Of my own. Perhaps even a Ghost of Love, prowling as I too

Prowl, waiting as I too wait.