SKYCLAD,
ON WINGS OF ETHERIC FIRE SHE ASCENDS,
KICKING ASIDE THE DULL GREY SAMENESS OF MY LIFE
WITH EVERY DANCING STEP THAT NEVER TOUCHES THE GROUND.
HER HAIR, A SAVAGE MANE OF COPPERY INTANGIBLES
FLOATS FREE AND UNFETTERED ON THE WARM, SCENTED BREEZES,
LASHING MY FLESH LIKE A MILLION TAWNY SILKEN WHIPS
WHOSE STING I CRAVE AND AM POWERLESS TO WARD OFF.
TWIN PORTALS OF BLUE-GREEN-GOLD SET INTO ALMOND FRAMES
BORE DEEP WITHIN MY SOUL, THEIR RADIANCE EXPOSING
EVERY POCK AND PORE,
MY DEEPEST TORMENTS AND HUMILITIES STRIPPED BARE
BEFORE THEIR BLAZE
AND CAST ASIDE, MY SALVATION RENEWED WITH A SINGLE GLANCE.
THE PHOENIX LAUGHS WITH JOYOUS ABANDON
AS SHE RISES FROM THE ASHES
OF THE MYRIAD SHACKLES WITH WHICH MORTAL MAN
ONCE HOPED TO HOLD HER;
HER FITFUL FURY EMBODIED AS A GLEAMING SWORD,
HER BOUNDLESS LOVE, A ROSE-GOLD SHIELD
WHICH NO DARKLING POWER MAY HOPE TO BREACH.
I SEE HER NOW, ROARING FORTH TO BATTLE HER FOES
WITHOUT AND WITHIN,
SEEMINGLY DEFENSELESS, NAKED AND VULNERABLE,
YET POSSESSED OF THE GREATEST ARMOR ANY CAN CLAIM --
ARMOR FORGED FROM A PROMISE AND A RING,
IT BEARS THE POWER OF TWO.
