Rapunzel, Rapunzel
Let down your golden hair to me
From within your self-made tower
No doors for Me to enter through
And staring out a window just high; out of man’s reach

Rapunzel, Rapunzel
‘Twas worse than a witch who put you here
Your own sin the demon, the condemner
Each one unrepented was another building boulder
And the years have cemented them all to permanency

Rapunzel, Rapunzel
You sing a song of love from crimson lips
Inquiring of an empty sky that which none can answer
If only you would call out to Me, with crimson wrists
I would become manna from heaven

Rapunzel, Rapunzel
Let down your hair to Me and
Bid Me climb those golden plaits and loose the curls
That plague you, trapped in this walled chamber
Built from generations of hidden transgression

Rapunzel, Rapunzel
I will climb to you if you open your soul to Me
And I will come cloaked in the darkness and be your prince
Nothing you expected and everything that you need
A knight, light in the night to save you from yourself

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

written in 2008

April is National Poetry Month, and I’m posting a poem a day to help encourage an appreciation for poetry to inspire and change. My recent trip to Puerto Rico reminded me of the architecture when I’ve visited Spain. That’s where I saw towers where I could imagine a trapped Rapunzel inside. Spiritual walks can be confusing, all abstract and ethereal. Turning myself into a fallen princess in need of rescue and giving a voice to One pursuing me made that dynamic more understandable for me. It’s not divinely inspired, just a story about a young woman trying to make sense of the love of an invisible Suitor.