Monday, March 22, 2010

Purple Pumps

Where others stumbled, she's stood.
When others stuttered, she spoke fullness to the mission.
Every scene is her runway to take off from expectation of failure.
She is truth child of the tribe, sharing with them the profit from the pains and gains of the people. Her people. Your people. Our People.

With peace power in her heart, she is a reluctant fighter, but a brilliant and bold warrior when battle befalls.
Her arrival hails the departure of evil, and she is always leaving to land.
The glare of Earth in its eternity is in her stare.
Her eyes are like a pure poison of passion and promise, peering into your souls intent.
She is heaven bent on bringing out from that which love bored, and poured down into me, and You!

In this whole world, she is woman, girl, prophet, pearl,
sitting and fitting into the palm of the divine.
The flats of her feet are firm with fertility.
Each nail and toe separate and sow the soil beneath and between her every half step scaling up the strength of her stems. Squizzle her scarlet petals dew drop color down the thornless vines. The winds that sweep around the cosmic bends of time whisk stardust through her hair, and on the breathe of her every word.

Something like a fallenangelshepheard, or a masterteacherpartner.
She wields a prowess in her purpose unmatched by her opponents.
Her love is strong enough to tear books into, yet fragile and fair,
like the inhale of coast mountain air.

She dares to conduct introductions between the real, the mind, and the sublime.
And in her kiss lies the healing of a world lost then reassured with faith and constellation.

She is a pioneer.
She is a rebel and a rougue.
She is a symbol. She is iconic.
She is my heroine.

1 comment:

jlyn said...

Belongs at the center of Songs of Solomon. Epic...