she walks into unknown
there is no other path
but this, her own.
Desolate pit below
a bloodied stumble lies
there is no light ahead
save from her eyes.
Does she walk stooped, trembling?
Fists in rage or fear clenched?
No, arms are heavenward raised
Soul in love drenched.
She clings to Love through pain,
doubt, scorn and betrayal.
Burning, breathing, hoping
ever faithful.
Maiden knight, armor clad
heroine of the world
What you carry in you
Mercy unfurled.
Jennifer D. Behnke - July 2, 2013.
On returning home from Spearfish, SD, finishing the diary of St. Faustina, watching the Passion of St. Joan, and singing some Wagner.
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