My Sword and Shield….

we had been walking for hours
days
months
years
decades
we had been walking since the beginning
we had been walking all night
we were cold, tired….hungry

the warrior was head of us
the gloaming light wouldn’t let me see him clearly
but i could hear him

his heavy footfalls in the underbrush
the brambles and bushes scratching against his armor as he laid them out flat
so by the time we passed them, they lay harmless….thornless…..benign….

I don’t know the hour when we finally cleared the treeline and found the shoulder of the road. It stretched to both sides of my periphery.

I think it was near midnight. Because the road was moonlit ribbon, looping this purple wood

It would have been enough to find the road… it would have been another successful battle in this war….well fought….

Years ago, the warrior and i had made the trek into its vast entangled heart to get him

and we had. We found him there. Still clutching that torn page from his favorite fairy tale. Green flames, purple dragon scales, black thorns… and the only defense a shield.

He was on his knees. The paper clutched to his chest.

As i approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder…He had looked at me. so much pain in the deep earth of his eyes

i opened my mouth to begin whatever feeble apology i could muster….but he launched at me then…with the speed of a lightning bolt.

Hit me full in my torso…his gangly malnourished arms wrapping me.

I braced myself for the pain of being torn asunder…i would not defend myself…it was surely his right to shred me where i stood.

For having abandoned him for so long….i deserved far worse.

Yet, he spilt none of my blood.

I gasped…but not in pain…

But for being crushed in his embrace.

My hands moved down and found the unkept shag of his head near my navel….

He pressed his face into me…and I could feel the white hot lava of his tears against me.

I gently entangled my fingers in his hair. Stroking softly….my own tears now springing to my cheeks

“I’m so sorry”  i whispered… “i am so very sorry”

He doesn’t speak…just sobs against me.

I let him, until his breathing becomes calmer.

I lift him gently to rest against my chest. His head on my shoulder…he takes slow, deep breaths…with the stuttering convulsions occasionally that such deep grieving brings.

I held him there for hours.

And when i thought he was strong enough to move. I kissed his cheek and spoke directly into his ear. “Its time to go home”

So from that event….we are here.

We’ve emerged from this great and terrible wood. Feet firmly planted on the road. Ready to begin this journey to a place we’ve never known. Home.

But ahead of us the warrior has stopped.

He stands, aegis planted firmly at his feet. His hand on the hilt of his sword.

I move to his shoulder. His form dwarfing me, i turn to him to speak and its as if a child talking to a parent. Our size comparison comical.

“What is it?” I ask “we should get going. The journey is long from here, old friend”

“They’ve found us” he answers. His eyes fixed on the group of people ahead of us. Standing in the middle of the road. Blocking our way.

My eyes close and i say a soft prayer to courage to stand close by…we will need her help for this. They will not let us pass willingly. I had thought this might be the case….but I had hoped that Hope would have mercy.

From the group one emerges. He’s tall..his looks are impeccable. A fine tailored suit hangs on his scarecrow frame. Fine gold rimmed glasses sit upon his nose and he speaks with a very “professional” voice as he points an accusatory finger

  “no.” He says flatly

I step forward and the warrior readies his blade. I hold out a calming hand. Silently asking for patience from this man whose sworn duty it has always been to keep me alive

“I understand.” I begin, “i know you are….”

“We are not ” says the suit

I tighten my lips in a small smile and i respond “…yes…you are”

“WE ARE NOT” he bellows

The warrior steps forward…i reach out a hand and touch his sword arm.

“No…its ok…” i say gently to the armored giant

I readdress the suit. Stepping forward.

“I know you’re afraid.” I finish “i am too” i lay hand against my heart to emphasize my point.

The suit shakes his head “he can’t go”

I swallow as my mouth becomes dry “he has to. We are hurting” i gesture to the whole of us “all of us. Its the only way”

The suit shakes his head, furiously this time and there is anger in his voice  “HE CAN’T GO”

I drop my shoulders… i don’t want to do this. But i know I have to.

I cross my arms across my chest. “Why?”

The suit is puzzled. I haven’t questioned him before. This is not protocol.

He stammers his answer. “No one will want him there”

“Why?” I ask. Adjusting my weight on my other hip

“Its not right”

“Or do you mean, its not comfortable?”

He is taken aback by that question. He turns to the others behind him, looking for support.  After a few moments he turns back to me. Clearing his throat. “No….not comfortable”

I nod, “i understand.”

“NO YOU DON’T!” he barks. The warrior moves forward but i restrain him again with a gentle hand.

“Yes i do”  i assure him “i know this is difficult. All of it is. Its big. Massive. And so very heavy. I know its not comfortable. But i promise you. We can all carry it together”

He looks behind him again and turns back once again “no!”

“Fine.” I say, and i hear a whimper from him at my side but i reach down and take his hand. Squeezing it to reassure him, i am not so easily stepping aside.

I pull him next to me. So that the others can see.

“You tell him then.”

The suit looks down. And i see the others behind him begin to shuffle their feet.

“You tell him,” i continue, “how we all knew he was there…all knew he was suffering…WE ALL KNEW….and we did….nothing. then tell him….he’s not worth it.”

Silence answered back. Only the sounds of the night.

“NO?….No one wants to tell him how we could have gone and got him….but having him there made life easy for the rest of us. 24 years we left him there…cold…alone…frightened…. because we could…..AND SO WE COULD FEEL COMFORTABLE.”

Silence still…deafening….

The suit seemed to dimish in size…and he still had yet to look at me again.

“I know you are all scared. There is plenty of fear to go around these days. And I don’t see much of it leaving any time soon. But we can do this together. I promise you. But you have to clear the road so we can begin this journey. Many will not like this….many will dislike us for attempting what we are attempting. But that has to be secondary now. He, must be first. He, must find his way home. No matter what happens. He has to succeed. He’s the only one who can save us now.”

Silence hung in the air for a few more moments.

Then suddenly there was a sound.

It was the sound of a dozen feet…moving upon the road ahead of us.

The group stepping to the shoulder and beyond them…the road rose up a hill in front of us.

I cupped him to my side, under my arm…and the warrior sleeved his blade. Picked up his aegis and fell into position next to us.

I took a final look at my travel companions…and breathed a sigh of relief….a soft “thank you” rising from heart and floating like a prayer from my lips.

it is done
i have sent them all out to fight
i have mustered the levee
emptied the armory
i have pressed the hilt
of a gilded halberd
into the soft and supple palm
of a scullary maid
i have spared no one;
no pound of mortal flesh
remains within these ramparts
that possesses the martial strength
to wield shield and blade
as i sit at the heart of this keep
beside my stoic resolve
and trust in the faith
of my heart
reborn

“Are we really doing this? Are you sure?”

This warrior standing in front of me. His size, always amazed me. How something so massive could move so fast. Like lightning. When he would get between me and pain.

His shield. Gargantuan. Heavy Iron. Its face had an emblem once. A crest of some kind… but it had long since been worn away. Chipped and sheered from the surface. Scoured clean from the thunderclaps, blow by blow, to keep me safe. His forearm and shoulder rippling with the aftershocks. He never once cried out in pain or frustration. Never once letting blade or arrow touch me.

Now his worry-worn face. Stoic and focused on mine was like a beacon.

The rain came down around us.

In this grey and smeared landscape where i always found him. His armor, always ankle deep in the mire.

I took a step toward him.

It was the only time his eyes left mine. A brief glance at where my foot had fallen. No doubt to warn me of where i stepped. This was always his duty. For our entire life thus far.  To warn me of where to step. Even before we ever took our first steps, when we traveled on hands and knees.

I stood upon my toes, and reached up to touch his cheek. There was such strength in his jaw. Solid. Tough. Chiseled sharp. Like the sword that rested on his hip.

An ancient blade, of no renown, but legend all the same. In his grip, it was the hammer blow of a hurricane.

As my hand reached his face. I met his dark eyes with my own. The same eyes that used to sit terror stricken in the gloom of my childhood room…waiting for something terrible to strike at us from the shadows. But of course nothing ever did. As he stood watch at the foot of my bed.

“Yes, Old Friend. My Guardian. My protector.  We are doing this. We are going to get him from the black thorns and the green dragonfire. Too long has he been prisoner there. Too long, has he sat huddled and alone, while the trials of this life rain down upon him.”

I held my free hand up to the iron clouds

“Like this deluge.

“I know you are tired brave warrior. I know you ache and i know you long for rest. But we’ve one more battle to fight”

I saw his sword arm lower to rest his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

He said no words, simply closed his eyes and nodded with a sigh that sent a whisper of steam into the chilled air.

I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon him, and resting my forehead against his…i listened to our heart beating. A rumbling rhythm…a call to battle.

Then i heard a voice from inside me, youthful and small say, with a clarity and sincerity i had only heard in my oldest of memories…

“Thank you”

I want to write
About pretty things
About sunsets and twilight
And love felt at the roots of your heart

But roots haunt my mind lately; deep
roots down to the corrupt marrow
the only heart, the heart of my homeland
hemorrhaging and screaming
begging for help

I saw a video today
Of a woman; she did not look like me
We shared no dna or name
She was my Sister

They dragged her down to the floor
At the processing booth; in the jailhouse
three men who are supposed to protect her
dragged her down by the face and forhead

they pinned her against the counter, wrenching her arms
she was my sister and she was screaming, NO!
she was my mother and my daughter
she was a she; a child of the same universe
molecules of the same star dust in her veins
our blood was the same
and she screamed, wide eyed for help

They, processed her like livestcock
At a slaughterhouse

We don’t have enough tears to wash away the blood that sits at our doorstep.
My heart knows only pain, right now.
I can’t stop looking at my hands
and how easily my skin is stained by blood

And the truly heart breaking part of all of this,
Is when you pictured the woman I am speaking of, you already knew she was black
And nowhere; until now, have I said so.

when my ears finally ache
and I can hear naught but the
broken pieces of my heart
i journey down here
amid juniper hedge and thorn bush
persephone and i
together we sit in the elysian night
watching the wheel of heaven
bend over the Styx