THE PATIENT BRIDE

“Let my hands be watered
by the rivers of love that flow out of your lips
Let your innocence brood over me
like sapphire and daunting like heaving
Let my pain be healed
by the power of your sweet embrace
and caress my hidden pleasures”

For such are the words
of a patient bride

A bride who sits in a cold dark room
waiting for the sun to stand still on her course
To melt the ice from her stale soul
and ignite the warmth of the fire he set within her
In the midst of her drowsy day
is the thought of the humour of his love
rising like the troubled sea
yet with the pace of peaceful waters of the great sea

Touch not the sun to shift from its stand
for it gives light to her little corner
The night only blinds her expectant spirit
and buries the perfect cliché
She dreamt a dream of entwined roses
turning into a tree of plummeting ego
An ego to bloom, grow
and eventually become the rest that never ends
A rest that sets the rough wings
of the broken angel anew and glowing

For each page of  her life’s chapter
bears a heart that beats restlessly in patience
A heart that carries the answers
to her fading prayers and trembling questions
A heart that bears the reason
of her solemn patience and endless imaginations
For neither the paleness of the grey walls
nor the shadows of fear will stop the wait

For her patience grows aggressive and hot
as she waits, yet tamed by the fever of her desires
The desires that are sweet as lemonade
and coarse as soured wine
She plunges into faith
as she sits in the dark
awaiting the return of her groom…

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©. This poem should not be shared or used without the author’s permission.