I sit here quietly under the dark night skies, <br />My face is warmed by the tears from my eyes, <br />The glitter of stars so distant and cold, <br />Not unlike the love I would hold, <br />The night air around me is crisp and clean, <br />The irony of love to my soul is so mean. <br /> <br />I must be strong I am always told, <br />I’ll use up my strength before I get old, <br />The source of my strength is fed by love, <br />But how do you eat the wings of a dove, <br />They are beyond my reach and one of a kind, <br />The essence of love is so hard to find. <br /> <br />The food of love to strength is sweet, <br />The Spiritual Warrior sees not defeat, <br />By denying his soul the Warrior progresses, <br />Searching for love through strength he confesses, <br />I sit here quietly under the dark night skies, <br />My face is warmed by the tears from my eyes.<br /><br />Terry Wiens<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-spiritual-warrior/
