Prometheus 6

This weekend's poem is actually a matched set, and possibly the only poems I've written that benefit from an introduction.

Once upon a time, before I took an honest look at myself and realized I wasn't the one to properly advise folks on such matters, I spent some time thinking about relationships. I was very linear and rational about it, searched out what looked like universal need, though I only ever proved it applied to me.

Wrote a poem called From the Man To the Woman.

Tried to flip it, write what The Woman would want to say to The Man. Couldn't do it...which was actually the start of that honest look. What I would up with was what The Man would want to hear from The Woman. Despite the title, there's really no woman's perspective in it at all.

FROM THE MAN TO THE WOMAN
Earl Dunovant, Copyright ã1996 

My heart. it calls to you
With the only words it knows
In a language it does not command.

Your heart. it challenges my calling
Makes me worthy of my desire,
And hears the meaning of what I couldn't say.

A warrior. I face the world
But you know the fears I feel,
And make me stronger by your knowing.

A wise man. I see the hand of destiny
But you know I can't know all,
And your faith is my faith in myself.

A fool. I did not see
The source of love is fragile,
Yet somehow stronger than I dared hope.

And whether open and caring,
Or clenched and angry,
Your hands hold my heart.

FROM THE WOMAN TO THE MAN
Earl Dunovant, Copyright ã1996

Your heart. it calls to me
Strong and brash
And not to be denied

My heart. responds to your calling
Joyously hearing
Volumes more than words.

My warrior. I know the things you fear
I stand with you against them
They cannot stand before us.

Oh, wise man. see you the path ahead?
It stretches into mystery
We learn its depths together.

Foolish man. can you not see
I am bound to you,
As you are bound to me?

And passion does not blind me
Nor does your strength bind me
When I place my heart in your hands.