Holy Ground

It is here, in the lonely places
that I feel safest,
where my heart can be released to roam
like the tender wild beast it is,

where there are no traps to hold it still
in golden cages,
no predators in wait to wound or kill
those unlike themselves.

This is where your gird for battle,
where you polish your armor and sharpen your sword.
This is where you come to lick your wounds
and heal.

And until you, it was a place well defended
held close and hidden, for only then
could my soul rest and find its way.
Only in solitude could I sleep like a child. safe and warm.

And yet, here you are.
Not merely sharing this holy ground,
but becoming holy ground
by your mere existence.

About this poem

I am still getting used to love again. So pardon me the wonderment.

Tom