Sabre of a KING

I decided to get up and come writing at 7:30 am. The coffee is hot and Starbucks is pretty packed here in Fridley. Today, I draw on the forces and energies in my vicinity.  As I write about how many people are here, half of them exited.  In my mind's eye, I see a sabre.  It is shiny silver with a brown leather handle.  It is wielded by a great almighty in the desert.  Even snakes fear this man, and he can call them to attention if war beckons him in the night.  I see his eyes turn green and then blue.  The skies open up and lightning flashes as sheets of rain pound the desert floor and this man's heart.  His is a life of isolation and solitude until mercy crept unto his doorstep in the form of an invitation of possible healing for someone he once respected.  It is all just modern history now, and he knows what and who he knows.  He even finds butterflies brilliant in his chamber in the night.  Love has captured his heart and his feet as he does not miss a beat.  His sabre is his way to communicate today for he has taken a vow of solitude until his love can be free of her bondage and is brought to the desert to rest beside him in the night.