Dating Hell

A woman once said, a woman I know.

“If he’s not a 'hell yes!' then it must be 'hell no!'"

I laughed with great roar and I laughed with great mirth,

and I realized she yearns for the spark of sole worth.

What makes a man "yes" and not his dread, "no"?

Is he Greek chiseled stone baking status and dough?

Is it flint struck on steel near a soft tinder heart?

Is it rose shafted arrow with an oath ne’er to part?

Is it fairy tale wishes? Is it prayer destined true?

What ignites such a spark that unites souls of two?

I thought back to days most sacred and sweet,

where I met the one whom I had long longed to meet.

I came unprepared for my manifest dream,

after years spent in wonder and doubt, my esteem.

This tale I may tell, or tell not, come what may.

Alas, I am not the same man smit that day.

I was acting the man but, truth told, just a boy.

In God’s plan for my match, there was much to destroy.

The man made for you is a man none can see.

For you are the key for a man yet to be.

He too cannot see past this long courting rut.

For the bride made for him is a gem yet uncut.

A spark there shall be, but how shall you know?

I know not his name, yet I know he must grow.

How could he be all when he's not yet all whole?

He's yet to know jewel carved to fit his soul's hole.

So you seek a "hell yes!"? Seek a man yet to be.

Choose the man who dare conquer his hells all for thee.