Maria Magdalena Biela


I Thee Wed


She wasn't taller than her doll-house.
She was still writing to Santa Claus.
Dark curly hair and wide open eyes
she piously kneeled piercing the skies.
She smiled to Heaven and silently said:
'With this heart I Thee wed! '.

She blossomed slowly as a dark Rose,
her wild thorns brought bleeding to her many foes.
Her pale fingers played with rosaries and ink.
She kept watching the heaven without a blink.
She smiled to the blue Moon and silently said:
'With these eyes I Thee wed! '.

Only once she met the dark Evening Star.
Her heart echoed its shine near and far.
She opened her bud, her thorns she killed,
with divine love the dark Rose was filled.
She smiled to Him and silently said:
'With this life and love I Thee wed! '.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Topic of this poem: love

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Love story

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  • Bronze Star - 7,163 Points Daniel Brick (1/25/2015 4:14:00 AM)

    This is a mystical poem in which love is lifted out of the sensory world to the World of the Spirit or the Spiritual. It's amazing how an art as sensory and sensual as poetry has also served the needs of ascetics and other spiritual seekers. But it does as countless mystic poets have shown. This poem has a heightened tone, an almost breathless intensity, and an utter confidence that there is a cosmic Mind that hears these pledges of service and sacrifice. You made this young woman very real to me. And I can only hope that her real-life counterpart succeeds in attaining the spiritual life. (Report) Reply

    Rookie - 493 Points Magdalena Biela (1/25/2015 7:07:00 AM)

    Once upon the time there was a girl who dreamed of becoming a nun, to dedicate her life to a spiritual higher Self. Growing up she learned that life is a game of power, that a beautiful girl can have it all if she plays her cards right, that her power over men is infinite. She felt nauseated by the very idea that she could use her charms as weapons to get everything she wants...she also hated the fact that most of men saw in her only the flash and not one bothered to understand her brains or her soul, her dynamics...The young woman became more lonely, aggressive, searching in books what the real life could not offer her. Only once she met a man who really saw her for what she was, she thought, she said. Then the rosaries were left aside, the ink on her fingers was washed and she accepted to marry him. Then and only then she understood that the Heaven answered her prayers, that she doesn't have to become a nun just to have faith and keep loving her rosaries. She knew that loving a man, taking care of him, respecting him, becoming one soul together, this is the highest sacrament called marriage. And, she smiled kissing her rosaries with gratitude, and the ink on her fingers reappeared.

  • Rookie Louis Cordoba (4/16/2014 11:21:00 PM)

    She opened her bud, her thorns she killed only in that moment of fate when she met the Evening Star...the same very wild thorns that brought bleeding to her many foes. Every wild Rose wants to be picked and breathed by the only one, the loved one. Every wild Rose wants to punish the daring hands of the greedy arrogant silly lovers. This poem speaks volumes to me about a fight between the divine and worldly love (Report) Reply

  • Veteran Poet - 2,877 Points Pranab K Chakraborty (4/16/2014 12:05:00 AM)

    ...She opened her bud, her thorns she killed, ....divine or satanic know not clearly but she uttered boldly.....appreciate. (Report) Reply

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