Wield the Sword

Wield the sword of Beauty, win back the children.

Sharpen your blade with blossoms and polish it in the star-silvered sea.

Rub your hands in moondust, grip your hilt with the grit of powdered diamonds.

Step forward with a lover’s bravado, lean in like a virgin bride’s kiss.

Raise your blade with the strength of wild horses, run with the speed of a million shooting stars.

Swing with the passion of a mother’s love, strike like the light slicing the darkness.

Shout like the echo of desert canyons and overcome like the sun eclipsing the moon.

Conquer, my son; conquer, my daughter. I have given you all you need.

Christina Brown

June 2019

In this poem, I wanted to play with the idea that beauty is a weapon, but a weapon of the sort that is not only harmless, but full of life; ready to defeat the death and darkness that overwhelms the world. Read it as it speaks to you. But if it helps, the voice of the poem is that of a King speaking to his grown son and daughter.