And I think perhaps I have found myself
something entirely different than a dragonslayer.
When the reptilian eyes of envy settle
upon me and chill my bones to freezing,
it is your hand that steadies my shoulder.
When the fire surges down in waves
I do not think I can withstand,
it is your voice that reminds me of my shield.
When my hands shake because I hurt
and I do not think it is in me to slay the beast,
I feel your grip around my fingers,
holding my sword to my hand,
and then love comes as a simple reminder:
“Of course you can do this.”
My life has many dragons to vanquish,
each a battle harder fought than the last
until I am beaten and bloody and bowed.
So often I do not think I can continue,
yet you are there whispering, “I have faith in you.”
Your life has many dragons to vanquish,
each a vicious monster lurking in mental shadows,
no less intolerable and difficult than my own,
and when you stumble, I catch you in my arms,
because I see all of hope and trust in you.
I am not your prize, nor are you my knight,
and neither of us wear armor gleaming in the sun,
but when the dragons press all around,
my back meets yours and I feel safe,
because I know we can do this together—where none could alone.
