Seen through the steam of my steeping tea
She seems sylvan -
Flashing Freya in the flame of her hair,
A warrior, a wood nymph, a woman
And she knows not that I’m watching.
Seen through the years of our wedding ring
She is mystery -
Still a sphinx in a coiled repose
Her riddle beguiles and beckons,
Each read page reveals reams unknown.
Seen through the light of the one we worship
She is life -
Manifold meaning and manifest breath
Her contingent consequences uncounted.
Wonderfilled, I woo in the hope of her wink.
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