We were meant to love, looking out;
Not at one another, but through.
This is a subtle truth,
but a Mountain in her youth.
Holding hands, we’re stronger still,
But don’t look twice, at a bond forged in fear.
Real life and living, and in her, love,
a continuous looking, up, up, up!
A pinnacle in sight, some may say too easy.
The fight is in the weary-
hoping, praying, knees made for crashing;
Swaying into a storm, blinded by a fear,
-of another kind.
The fear of not knowing, what tomorrow may bring,
Real love is surprising,
a Mountain Uprising.
You gain when you least expect it,
A triumph of tears.
Good things come,
in waiting through the fighting,
the struggle up a storm, of our own making;
For we trust when we should, a revealing of sorts,
But love is not made in the plains of our trusting,
Rather, in absence we are made-
And there She is: The Greatest One:
-LFE, Dancing in the Dark: poems from the night hours