Fight for Me

In the eleventh hour her cry was heard. To her appeared a warrior in the silence of dusk.

He came not by horse and not by chariot. He was carried on the wings of hope.

He stood before all mortal men prepared for war. He carried no swords and no gun.

He held as weapons only his words which were sharpened with precise knowledge.

Unbendable and unshaken he stood with his head held high. Not a moment too soon.

His heart spoke and the enemy was paralyzed with fear and questioning.

From behind his chest marked in ink unfolded wings like those of an eagle.

He stood swift in his words, strong in his actions and pure in his ways.

When the world around him became clear and uninfluenced his eyes headed toward to the sun.

When his dark eyes hit the horizon level with the men among him his soul pierced through the crowd.

He felt love pulling him in a direction he had not yet traveled. An area of unfamiliarity.

His eyes kept trying to ignore the fire that was placed within them.

The warrior suddenly began to shake. Not with fear, not with doubt, but with certainty of his desires.

His hands raised fell suddenly to his side. One hand placed upon his ribs and the other draped across his chest.

From his rib an equal he knew had been created. And from his chest his heart beat not for his own survival.

She was near. He could hear her silent knocking. He could feel her eyes starring directly into his heart and soul.

His eyes began to move quickly. Swift and decisive. Filled with passion and faith.

Just as the wind carries the autum leaves, his heart began to soar, spiraling out of control.

The wind ceased and his heart stood before her. The warrior stood unaware of how he ended at her feet.

No longer did he wonder or question. He put all reason to rest. All worry was vanished.

Before any words were spoken they both fell to there knees in humility and in respect.

There knees to the ground and there palms pressed into the soil, tears began to fall.

Release, freedom and love flowed through there veins. Overflowing into an undeniable joy.

The woman slid her hand through the mud…slowly reaching for the gift she had long claimed.

She picked her chin up to look ahead at what was before her. She smiled for what felt like the first time.

Her hands slid over his the warmth of her touch caused his body to shake.

She than raised her hand from the ground and placed it upon his chin and gently raised it up.

The warriors eyes remained closed and his lids began to flutter as if they were starring directly into the sun.

The crowd around them disappeared and they were sheltered with his wings spread wide.

She leaned forward and the palm of his hand was placed over her heart so he could feel it beating.

There was no hiding. There was no questioning. Her heart was beating just for him.

When he opened his eyes she saw her reflection deep within him. He looked directly into her heart and soul.

Without a fight and without words the greatest battle had been one. The greatest gift was claimed.

Her lips floated gently and graced his with a trust and tenderness and passion neither knew existed.

The mud disappeared, the sun warmed, the laughter healed and the love, oh the love, saved the strongest and the weakest.