Reliquary

I have seen your eyes so grave; The quiet, gentle hands that hold The little book; and your thoughts, brave. The lined pages that they enfold: Wistful dreams you'd scarcely dare. Through all you've seen, your heart's stayed pure; Such innocence in man is rare. All the pain and tears, endured Without self pity or revenge- Still sweet, still just, and never vain. Others might have been unhinged, But your soul is yet unstained. In another age, you would have been A poet, a seer, of some acclaim. But you were steered by fate or wind Away from any hint of fame. Even from comforts none deny: The road's your home, your roof, The sky; for all of that, you do not sigh. The last, your heart, you gave to me; And it more dear than any jewel, That earth can hide within it's dust- Though life and love can both be cruel, No more demeaned, your fragile trust. A light at the end of the darkest hours. Your heart's the only grail I find; That holy, fragrant field of flowers- Myself become beloveds shrine.