The Flow
Midwinter wraps me in a
cloak of loving kindness
While tears of
humility fall to the lowest level
Filling their very
source
And in time rise up in
the smallest trickle of hope
Through a core of
barren bark and broken dreams
To restore and renew
the spirit of Gavriel,
Warrior,
protector—made of fire
Angel Gavriel, with
wings of flame flaring and floating,
Rising from the very
trunk that feeds her
No tears wasted
All of them—every last
one of them—returning
And then churning up
the force that sustains me
During my midwinter of
loving kindness
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