Though he has the best of both worlds
And she has two of one.
With pride to the side,
His why for her calling should be done
To be at one.
She is strong in who she is
And her strength is his weakness.
His strength is for when she is faint.
His touch should be capable of being just as soft;
Consistent and frequent.
For the physical realm gives them attraction,
While the spiritual’s abundance helps them heal.
Both having frailties that the other
Has been exercising their whole life.
Like the woman sees a canvas as a white-lit backdrop
With colorful blooming of all sorts.
The sun and its rays,
Life’s adornments in some beautiful maze.
While the man sees the canvas
As a foundation to build substance and commodity on.
A world.
An army.
Industry.
But how does he form it?
And what would hold up her beautiful world?
The ill plagues both their minds
Until they conform to their
Different but attracted kinds
Of strength and wisdom.
Healing each other’s weak spots.
Like a muscle never used before.
Painful and even nagging
Until strengthened and found useful.
Their newfound dependence on one another
From breaking their own yolks
And forming a cooperative, One.
Shining bright.
A new being.
As the rise of the Sun.
