Her Strength

The smell of her dark hair leads me to a field of greens, reds, and pinks
Swaying with the sultriness of the wind, a balm to a battle-worn soul.
All the birds, never joyless, hum a familiar melody sent from a night sky decked with stars.
I feel her nearness as I close my eyes, holding my warm arm.
An image of her emerges -- faint sun's vibrant and most eloquent surprise.

On a morn of April, she dazzles, she dances, singing her heart out loud, ever childlike, yet she weeps.
She sobs in silence, in a vacuum of bruises and wounds.
My Maria, my life's rose, my heart aches with her.
Speechless tears sink in my every day, a suffering of being so far away from her.
The unforgiving seas and soaring mountains, so overwhelming we breakdown many a time.

But a magnetic string holds our universe together, an anchor we cling to.
Forever gracious and grateful, my dear Maria finds comfort in the promises of the Word.
Often does she remind me of that, truly a ray of light she is.
Her strength awakens me from slumber, pulling me out of the pit; she is strength.
I love her deeply, and the fragrant blooms and swinging birds are in the know.