Swiftly, swiftly, the wind blows gently.

Daftly, daftly, my heart believes its woes.

“What do you want?”

She cries, the ship from season past. . .

I say I’m sinking in schoolwork like the 1912 tragedy

So many things could go wrong

So many things do. . .

“What do you want?”

He cries, the Captain in season present–

Pressing a burning torch to my dry desire

To combat my bulwark of falsely fortified fears,

To embroider my patchwork-quilt of Hopes.

Swiftly, swiftly, the wind roars dark green and ebony

Yet something shifted.

Propitiously, propitiously, my heart begins to hope.

She was the one who learned to spit off a balcony
And not relent to fear
And he was the one
Who gave up his life to serve her,
The Chevalier.

Not all is lost, dear ones

Not all is faded,

Not all is painted grey or jaded.

She knew what to do,

She took his name,

She knew who to trust

When wind blew all strength untamed.

For there is a Hope that delights to bring

Resurrection to Dreams,

A Love who adores to script

Dark to Bright,

Sacrifice to Life–

It’s what we always wanted.

So when all seems lost,
And all seems faded,
When all else feels like 1912 unaided…
Remember this–

We have hope of a Chevalier– our Knight shining– upgraded,

Our relationship forever together acquainted,

And our eternal history untainted.

“By awesome deeds you answer us 
With righteousness,
O God of our Salvation,
The Hope of all the ends of the earth
And of the farthest seas.”

-Psalm 65:5

Photos: Otago Museum, Dunedin, New Zealand. August 2013.