Warrior Poet

One sees him walk with confidence,

A darkly rough hewn sight.

His presence at your side or back

Might even squelch a fight.

One cannot know, with just a look,

He's more than muscled bone.

His salted beard and shaggy hair

Add texture to his stone.

His mien is calm. He radiates

A subtle primal vibe,

The alpha of his close knit pack,

Of his extended tribe.

But that's a judgment of a book

Unopened and unread,

A caving to experience,

Of prejudices fed.

If one would hazard his bold gaze,

One's sure to feel surprise,

For at the slightest hint of need,

There's kindness in his eyes.

His surface yields to soft approach

By those who dare to look.

Most think they'd read of violence,

But find a different book.

They'd find a world of love andlight,

A wealth of sage advice,

A lot of information in

His thoughts, distilled, concise.

Inside his grizzly outer shell

Is heartfelt tenderness,

Exposed by those who's pain's beeneased

By him with some success.

His warm compassion's famous

In the circles where he's known.

But lately it's through poetry

Where his small fame has grown.

The richness of his intellect

Is hinted at in rhyme.

That it moves hearts the world around

Surprises him each time.

The souls that he's drawn close tohim,

Form who he is today.

They've smoothed the edges knapped byfate,

And polished his display.

And in his turn, he guards them all,

As any warrior would.

Their bodies, minds and spirits all,

Help mark the line he stood.

Richard Higley © Oct. 01 2015