The surrender of your strength to me does not mean you are stripped bare of it.
It always thrives within you!
Just as you look into my eyes and your soul mixes with mine; your soul has not left you, but has mingled and touched my own. So is it with the strength that is woven throughout your being. As you look at me I see that strength start to rise to the surface. I see it in your eyes, in the way your body starts to move. Even in the way you stand before me. And instead of your strength overpowering me, you stoop down and pour it out as an offering. That gesture feeds me and I can feel the power of your surrender ignite my desire for you even more than it was the moment before.
I am your resting place. Your mirror. And your perfect storm. You are anchored in my soul. Your surrender keeps me warm.