Soteriology of the Significant Other For Kenndra We wandered down the ancient Orphic path With golden bough of mitsletoe in hand To see what wonders, dreams and ghostly wrath Lay buried in the shades of that strange land. And there I lay, trapped in life in death; No sunlight, moon, or breeze of worldly thyme To wake me; and though my flesh would sigh with breath My spirit lay beyond the livings' rhyme. And there I would have languished to this day Had not the faith of my Beloved come; This brought me life, that love of Lady K And made the senseless speak, that had been dumb. For this I treasure, that my Love's own word Did bring me home, when I could not be stirred. copyright E Glas Durboraw, December 6, 2001 - Chattanooga