I Cannot Always Be Gentle

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


I cannot always be gentle with the things I love, but I shall always love them...

Submitted: May 08, 2018

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Submitted: May 08, 2018

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I cannot always be gentle with the things I love, for if I do, they will never grow their spine, or come into their sacred fierceness, they will never own their independence, even from myself, which is necessary.

 

Be you mine, it is is my duty to give such a strength to your bones that one day, you may go on without me.

 

Always, I am preparing you for the road that lies ahead. So I cannot always be gentle...

 

Sometimes, I must bury you, like a seed, or tear limbs or blossoms from you, but it is never to be cruel, and I try oh so hard not to be thoughtless, though God knows I am not a perfect goddess.

 

I cannot always be gentle with the things I love, though the mother part of me says “soft, soft, soft,” and the lover part of me says “kiss, kiss, kiss,” the warrior side of me, the champion fostered by my mother, knows better than these soft handed women.

 

Long have I desired to land you in a kiss, but first, you must come to me covered in the blood of the dragons you have slain.

 

You must step into your own right, with eyes that see the world as it is, and with a soul so strong it is not easily bothered by the shifting winds of thought or feeling. Come to me then, and then we may talk. We may talk long and low and deep, and all your secrets I will keep until the day you stand gentle in your fierceness, enough to finally understand what I said when I first saw you. I cannot always be gentle with the things I love, but always, always do I love them, and even when they cannot see my face, I carry them in the pocket of my heart.


© Copyright 2018 B.B. Hatt. All rights reserved.

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