Tē dēfendam.
Let me protect you
like a drop of water
that clings to the
edge of a boiling
pot. You or me?
Who’s the one that
knows no words but
flips through pages
of a self-help book,
learning life’s
ways from rustles
that hiss of a snake
whose venom killed
his mother after
trying too late to
kiss back the warmth
she had given him
too many years ago?
Does it honestly
matter? Does it matter
that the fledgling
sparrow can carry
back more worms
than the mother who
covers him with wings
that tell stories of a
tremble-strewn forest?
What do questions
translate into but
doubt? There are
better translations
for the heart to sink
into. Tē dēfendam.

I will protect you.