The armor that surrounds me
stretches from the blade of grass beneath my feet
to the clouds forming in the sky above;
it shields my open heart
with cricket symphonies on summer evenings
and the touch of a child’s sleepy hand on mine;
it defends my sore spots
through the soft snow falling on a December morning
and the warm glow of light in windows as I arrive at home each night;
it roars as bravely as the king of the jungle
and rests as tenderly as a kitten’s mew;
it is all
shielding
defending,
brave
and
tender,
the armor that surrounds me.