As a Bride

The love you have given me,

Let it go out into the world.

My longing however,

Let it be only for you.

 

Where are you?

I look to the hills,

Searching.

Peering through dimness.

 

The darkness encompasses me.

Where have you gone?

Then a spark.

An ember of hope.

 

Could it be you,

Down there?

Alone in the dark.

However, you are not alone.

 

It is you, my beloved.

Among the briers.

Piercing your flesh,

As you free the captives.

 

A perfect rose,

Among hooked thorns.

Loose the binds;

Open the eyes.

 

To the blossoms,

You are a most welcome light.

To the thorns,

You are the flames of death.

 

To me, you are everything.

 

The stench of your myrrh,

Is sweet perfume.

Your frankincense,

An alluring promise.

 

My head, my heart,

Bound by golden truth,

Encircled with your love.

A shield against the foe.

 

Snow on the ground,

I dredge back.

To my place of waiting.

The season is not yet.

 

How I rejoice,

At the coming Spring!

The lamps needs filling.

The wicks needs trimming.

 

I labor until your return.

My yearning for you,

Is as sweet as honey,

And as bitter as unripe fig.

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These are the things that ye shall do: Speak ye every man the truth to his neighbour; execute the judgment of truth and peace in your gates: And let none of you imagine evil in your hearts against his neighbour; and love no false oath: for all these are things I hate, saith the Lord.  — Zechariah 8:16-17