the heart of a king π
M A R C H 1 8 , 2 0 2 5
to my beloved husband, on his 41st birthday.
patrick richard lion heart ~ i love you. i love our life. i love our love.
thank you for setting me free.
The Heart of a King
Not by fortune, nor by birth
But by will to rise and stand
Through the fire of walking alone -
The consecration of a man
Young dreams laid to rest
Old tethers grow frayed
For the making of a ruler
Demands a heavy toll be paid
So love becomes the anvil
Upon which he takes his shape
Truth, the rugged shore line
Where all illusions break
Each pass through the forge
A deeper strength awoken
Until all that remains
Is what cannot be broken
For the man who has met
The very marrow of his being
Turns upon the axis
Of his own sovereign seeing
And standing so rooted
In the Truth at his center
With divine grace, he transmutes
Every resistance to surrender
Like a honeybee, he gathers
The nectar from her bloom
When he gives, she gives him her receiving,
When he receives, she feels so given to
So his presence becomes the chalice
That gives her spirit shape
His wide open heart, the gravity
True love cannot escape
As his kingdom walls rise
Heβs the first to bow low
For power moves like water -
To the humblest place, it flows
And the crown that rests upon him
Sits not atop his head,
But on his heart of gold -
The throne within his chest
And she who kneels beside him
In this chamber of his heart
Beholds the king within him
And bows to every part