Solitary though I stand across the distance
I still feel the primal pulse in our kindred hearts.
Defenders, Keepers, Protectors.
Some brandish a holy book or burn incense
or mumble morning prayers to the east.
Some never give heaven a second thought.
I search your eyes among the masses
and sometimes catch the golden glimmer
of ancient urges and unabashed courage.
Defenders of children clothed in rainbow skins
Stewards of creation birthed in genesis
Protectors of water pulsing in earth’s veins.
I cannot escape your primal war cry.
Allow me join your army of righteousness.
Let me wear your colors and wield your sword.