Arete

Her mighty skin is basked in wisdom,
bones soaked in wondrous prestige.
She’s like the essence of love:
delicate like a fresh patch of snow
and strong like an arctic fox
whose pale fur is winter-kissed,
a mess of snow and light.
She swiftly glides through the night,
tail swaying in the wind,
her piercing eyes ready for the hunt.
Oh, how to find a love so hidden?

She glides through the day,
her gait risen like reborn plants.
She is a Dahlia flower in and out.
Her petals curve upwards and out,
open to the world all around.
They reach for the sun; these
friendly sun-kissed buds,
bathed in wondrous warm colors,
reach towards the sky because
she knows she is worth more
than the ground below her.