On Unwhinnied Mornings (#23 Na/GloPoWriMo)

gus-learning-at-mindys.jpg

When I think of how my flights were spent
Before these days grounded on my own feet,
A warm hide, coarse mane, hoofbeat,
Until my very being was rent.
Dark eyes, flicked ear, face buried in the scent,
My security, my dry future this love did cheat.
A lamb ambling to slaughter without a bleat,
Setting aside all that flying has meant.
My mind insists ā€œAdults don’t need
The sieving sand steps when the world was best.ā€
My heart leaks the invisible essence of life.
Whosoever says a heart does not bleed
Has not from that ineffable organ wrest
The glory of those galloped heights.
inspired by John Milton’s ā€œOn His Blindnessā€

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: