Tender is the misty forest, full of frost, full of frost
Glowing in the velvet night and crystal air, crystal air
I walk silent, carrying my globes of hope, globes of light
In the misty forest tender, full of frost and air.
Shadows track beside me here as I walk in the trees
Leaving traces of their fear, and their hate, always near.
Gibbering and whispering their lies and pain, lies and pain
Stalking me, looking for my heart so red and near.
They believe my globes of hope are poisonous, full of death,
They imagine machinations sinister, scheming loss
They crown me with bitter loathing hateful spite, in this night
Waving branches dead and stark, their signposts of despair.
I know what is in my heart, in my globes, globes of light.
I know why I walk the tender misty forest, forest night.
I am warm, and my head held high as I walk, as I walk.
Nothing can defeat or harm my tender misty heart.
Charissa's Grace Notes 
“I know what is in my heart, in my globes, globes of light.
I know why I walk the tender misty forest, forest night.
I am warm, and my head held high as I walk, as I walk.
Nothing can defeat or harm my tender misty heart.”
You know this, right? You know your heart better than most anyone else I know.
Sissa…your words literally made me sob. Because, yeah, I DO know my heart, but at times the evidence piled up false against me overwhelms me. The things people say about me, think about me, and they don’t even know me not even a whit. I am a cipher to them, a blank sticky expanse of the unknown and they get skert and hurl their stuff at me that they fear about themselves and it sticks to my outsides and drips there stinking and it is in those times that I doubt…that I quail and I fear “Oh Mama, what if they are RIGHT??!!??!!”
I know how easy it is to deceive one’s self, and it terrifies me to think of living blind in my heart to truth and end up blind leading the blind into ditches.
I wrote this poem to myself, really…talking to me, first and foremost, and trying hard to affirm myself and remind myself who I am and Who I know and WHO lives in my heart and makes me what I am in my true self and not in this body star-crossed and hung on the gender cross of transformation.
Please never take for granted what you mean, and the timely entry of your kindness into my walk in this world…and always know that if you are affecting me this way that you are a gravity to Kris beyond anything either of you can imagine and thus a priceless treasure of heaven.
Thanks Sissa
❤
You are so kind. And they do not know you so how can they be right?
Dedicated to your Becoming you.
OH! I do like that dedication!! It captures what I was using poetic braille to read under the blankets…
This poem is soo special to me because it is a bit unique in structure and rhythm from my usual flow…and it insisted on being so