The Seeker

Darhion rode out with eyes of sea,
to see the world as it could be.
He found the ninth wave, a dew-gemmed brow,
whispers deep of forgotten vows.
He found the fay mound, a dark-papped breast,
wonders down there--ancestral best.
He found the haunt of dwarves and fair elves,
digging in caves, singing in wells.

Darhion rode into other realms,
the trees his ladder, a star his helm,
No more to wander ruins ash-cold
but join the Tales of ageless old.
Lords and labours there cannot abide,
but Myth took Darhion in stride.
He saw the world as it could be
and joined the Host of Good Faery.

 
 
 
 

A Prayer for Love

Goddess, hear my prayer
as I lay my soul bare:
Give me a man maimed . . .
. . . for me to heal.
Give me a man tamed . . .
. . . self-controlled will.
Give me a man afeared . . .
. . . of he himself.
Give me a man endeared . . .
. . . by his heart's wealth.
Give me a man who seeks . . .
. . . after Your ways.
Give me a man so meek . . .
. . . I will obey.
Give me a man quite wise . . .
. . . beyond his years.
Give me a man with eyes . . .
. . . that ease my tears.
Give me a man of Thine own choice:
Let he and I share heart and voice.
He and I forever entwined--
unexpected as divined,
But merry and married, one being:
He'll be my eyes; I'll be his seeing.

So mote it be, as You decree.