She vanquishes my sorrow with her smile,
and with that same light could illuminate the world-
rolling back the dark covers of night as she opens her eyes,
appearing once more as the incarnation of beauty.
What beauty lies still beaneath the surface,
in the sacred vault of her soul?
what thoughts and feelings lie hidden,
awaiting the One who will
teach them the manner of the their expression?
Each time I see her is the first time.
We meet, we part, and I am left pondering the perfection
I have witnessed-debating its reality,
almost certain that one so fair could not walk the earth with me
here and now.
And still she smiles brightly,
and still the sun must hide behind the clouds in shame.
Still I long for my time or my calling,
Awaiting the will of she who may command me anything.
Bolivar and San Martin: Guayaquil, Ecuador
1 comment:
your hopeless romanticism is beautiful, don't ever lose it or let anyone convince you otherwise. i love that she rolls back the covers of night when she opens her eyes, and that the sun hides in shame behind the clouds when she smiles. it reminds me of a photograph where the sun is directly behind someone and it turns them into a hazy shilouette as it dominates part of the image. she would be the sun, and the sun would be the shilouette.
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