The papers say she’s a woman of simple faith,
But faith and hope and holding on are never simple.
It’s a battle in heaven and heart and mind,
And trying to get the light burning in the wind.
Famous on the field, intense and shaped from stone,
Cutting away of the soft and other talents, so she can
Shine on the pitch. God’s in that too, in dedicating life
To what you must be.
I watch her, not strong like her, not tough like her,
But I’ve cut away the stone until my talent has shaped
A sharp blade to cut away the wounds and devilish sorrows,
To become I what I must be.
And we’ve known dark times and the most sublime light,
And the days that seem endless, and the night so sweet,
The wind keeps blowing out the light, the sun so weak,
But I try to hold onto it all, because she has so long.