A Prophet's Profit

The piece of you    
Is peace in me    
Down the aisle    
To the isle mystique    
Which acts so swift    
The axe quivers    
Strange bands    
Now Nothing banned    
Be bolder, they whisper    
Carry the Boulder, the rock    
Beneath the bough    
And bow to the unknown    
No more passions bridle    
Innocence lost, once bridal    
Now forlorn cedar, my love    
It serves as the sower and seeder    
Repeating Latin chants    
meditating on fate and chance    
Tying together a powerful cord    
Feeling my tattered soul  now cored    
The world is all too coarse for me    
Yet life must take its course.    
What is left for me to do?    
The morning dew has expired to heaven    
the fog has lifted from the coastal ferry    
the fairy-sprites retreat to the tree hollows    
The grief doesn't faze me    
Or is that a phase of my youth?    
My soul - does it groan    
From the pains of being grown?    
Trapped in a game of the hunter and hart    
I feel inside a change of heart    
As if struck squarely in my Achilles heel    
Though perhaps I shall heal in time    
I take solace in this love that is ours.    
Reflecting for hours on my blessings    
With patience, my pain can lessen    
I wonder in that if there's a lesson:    
Though you may feel in mourning    
Wait-- the morning springs eternal    
Birth, forgetting the past, endless trials    
You passed through, you survived,
though you were prey,    
You returned home unscathed. Or so I pray.