You, lift up the prostrate soul at the foot of the altar into the sacred temple dwelling place of your heart which heals and protects.
You saw in me the soft deposition of merciless weapons knocking at the city gates.
You raised your arms before the delicate force of the woman you chose from millions your side invisible to all and blood flowing between your veins hardened by the days of drops drunk from the cup of bitter wisdom.
Your Homeland has given you the austere forge of faithful man without any oath raising your hand.
He did it before himself.
Light that the night allows itself to penetrate gently to reflect splendor to the universe.
You have spoken the words of the woman of peace sewn on your skin and you are like that now and always in one breath.
Elisa Mascia 10-8-2026
You, my beloved, only you are my source of pure water.
Your inspiration of poetic energy flows and is absorbed by my soul.
It penetrates and regenerates itself in the flow of words that continue in the perfect union of eternity.
