The Ode and Vow

Though I have asked for her hand,

I see the hesitation within her.

And though the reasons may be of this realm,

I sense something deeper within her.

I feel it when she whispers poetries in the wind,

And in the way she rests her forehead against a tree—

An embrace, a connection. She feels it, and I know.

I can't see it, but I know.

There's a wild woman within her,

That breathes through her words and dreams,

Ethereal and of the nature.

I sense her presence.

Through the years,

She has but blessed me with rare glimpses of her.

In them, I see her—one of the spirits.

Her beauty radiates as she treads the forest floor,

Wildflowers and daisies bloom after the tail of her robe,

And those dead make the crown atop her head.

Thunder and lightning adorn her hair,

And tiny fireflies make the stars in her strands.

She never talks but lets me follow her,

Takes away my love but lets me be near her.

And so, I swear—

To cherish and nurture the mortal body that holds such a wild spirit.

For I may not understand her,

And she may not be tamed,

But my love is a force she recognizes.

And for that, I shall walk always near her.