Quiet Wins

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I’m promising her I’ll notice

The grains of sand
One by one falling away

The fog, that had cooled her head
Rolling back, uncool, after all

The once-silent roar
The power regained

Now since she’s picked up her mat

Warrior, Defender

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What is this we say
Words have power?
To send them out as little soldiers
Do we?
Dressed in armor plus tiny swords
Or in humility, altogether naked
Regardless revealing our hearts

When with any thought
Words can heal?
To speak them forth as mighty ministers
Ought I?
What bidding do I demand of them
Or in vulnerability, lowly ask
No matter what I stand to lose