If it is a war you want
You cannot win,
If it is a wick you have lit
You will flicker at fault and fade out like a sin—
In her there is fire that still burns
Though you may secretively yearn for it not to,
You could not put it out,
You could not put her down,
For hers is a strong fire,
Endothermic, ice melting, plants in bloom, breath in the air
and in her lungs she gasps now for only the right reasons,
Seeing the seasons through with vibrant gloss renewed and
earthly vigor in her every step
The tundra comes unfrozen,
There is room again for life to grow,
For love to flow freely,
You will see how easily two outstretched trees
Can bring the wilderness to its knees
Can tame the beast
Can feast in famine in the absence of sin
Can extinguish exothermically summoning up from within
Reserves of strength,
Borrowing if need be from the other tree
That each fell so easily in heart and mind and soul for the
other,
As two leaves of the same twig still intact fall swiftly at
the urging of heavenly hail,
Then melt in to the Earth,
Their imprints
Their love
Their beginning,
Eternally bound,
Emblazoned forever in the ground.
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