Your Poetry Dot Com - Reflecting on Reflections

Hither yon, young white Stallion!
Noble I seemed (to me), so well muscled-
Rippling singing vaunting;
Firm of berm, song of motion, wanting,
Prancing stomping chomping geared
toward light unattained;
(not for me, rippling equine, sins heavy of listing long)
On to open plains untrammelled-
midnight running strong
by choice unfettered;
twice unbridled (oh, this world's restraint!)
By opting thrice removed from all
(societies harsh metal bit of agony incarnate fit).
I, cantering untamed, saddle-less.
Oh, ebony King! Oh ivory Queen! So confined,
riddled in rules demands.
Life is chess a scattered mess-
not for me, oh no! I am I, unchecked!
Rules and loss confronted surely ?neath my noble loft,
'tis game constricted left to others;
accepted settled for by lesser mindlessness,
(or so thought I in my ego, halter-less).
Eyes to sky, heart song full vibrato,
Windhover floating soaring in glory-
storied bird of most delight;
turns of terns, unison cry, hint to dusky milky light,
swooping regrouping laying together
ere' Eos and Helious tasked to lay
'tis another day complete-
Dawn comes the more to weary self-compete.
I, alas, four legged standing, surveying-
am this dusky mane of grungy grange;
(snuck stealthily on me, vile cataracts of mind. Cruel mange!)
Life's toils soils turmoils boil
burbling cauldron bourne in my barren range.
Now dated thus of late I find?
Stallion once pranced proudly I;
More in spirit (albeit via' jaded lens) though less in fact
(if truth confide),
more in name by me, I chide;
now sadly face I diminished mane,
Muscles awe 'ere no longer same-
In ponds reflection rippling beauty,
Vision to my ego's order,
hurtful fact, my rippling muscles not the half,
(as 'twere they never were),
'tis all the more the shame.
Seeing believing what is not so;
stock and trade in ego's game.
Lost? What is lost if ne'er possessed in aught but fawning mind,
Surely vanished, not regained-
barely there and not to last,
recollection's toothless phantom;
idealized, ephemeral past-
Stern on mount of mighty mesa, fragrant cedar this stallion's mast,
laying bare, stripped of pride,
prior years stampeding all to fast-
white fading mewing brewing greying
Splaying praying flaying hooves
crackling smacking over and over
head, head, heart, and head again;
Trampled paralysed in fear, a wall to climb 'ere 'fore I ask
when that stallion (pray manifest),
so firm of berm can, will, can, will for my aide to task
arrive ere' now (soonest, pray!) as my weakened muscles fade
(Oh help me, dearest me!) in supplication staid.
My shiny coat now from white to gray so goes,
fuzzy blows no longer on once noble nose...
forgotten teeth, (remembrance stranger) to crisp apple, child's play!;
How came this crutch I now rebuff,
tilled I under now to ego's plough?
Whence evolved I to present state?
Youth's embracing foolish chasing,
dancing prancing lost so tossed-
where lies my moss?
Base on tree, where moss patient on woody host
calmly lies at post,
(Alas, one tid-bit of moss for me?)
Not so, my ego dissed natural decree.
Then moss, I suppose, knows it's not for me.
Silly horse am I, cantering rejection's flee...
regret my foe, my enemy.
In prancing, dancing
pained, paid, soul splayed;
yay, even flayed;
so many nays to joyful bids I bade-
Now find I grasping spinning twinning flying
violent voiding, ever sliding-
white to gray, noble to ignoble-
To late once more to white and firm?
Hope fighting, tearing slick and clenching
pit of ego climbed, stormed ramparts toppled;
regrets entombed,
at last ego relieved of post,
fifty years for love to host.
At last. At last...
For least I, one stallion seeking,
broken resting day nor night,
soon, and sooner yet, I prithee' find
reconjour that I might
embrace youth's vigour humbly dipped
in peace, in smiles, love and laughter,
burden of myself to ground I let slip.

This poem is Copyright © invierno