Soteriology of the Significant OtherFor Kenndra
We wandered down the ancient Orphic path
With golden bough of mitsletoe in hand
To see what wonders, dreams and ghostly wrath
Lay buried in the shades of that strange land.
And there I lay, trapped in life in death;
No sunlight, moon, or breeze of worldly thyme
To wake me; and though my flesh would sigh with breath
My spirit lay beyond the livings' rhyme.
And there I would have languished to this day
Had not the faith of my Beloved come;
This brought me life, that love of Lady K
And made the senseless speak, that had been dumb.
For this I treasure, that my Love's own word
Did bring me home, when I could not be stirred.
copyright E Glas Durboraw, December 6, 2001 - Chattanooga