Untethered Beauty


Some say
We all have one,
An enigmatic wild stallion within,
Seeking sounds and symbols
To become a tundra of words,
Its landscape of expression.

Here,
Time’s pace and rhythm,
Carried by nature’s patient breath,

 Echoes its passion

 Between the canyons walls of mind and heart,
Knowing well the joy of unbridled passage.

Thought by many as a poet’s gift,
This tenuous control of eager restlessness
Seeks little repose.

Painfully aware,
The vanishing of a moment,
The eclipse of a thought
Might recede into infinite darkness,
The stallion often bolts.

For

Taming forces are everywhere,
Incapable of recognizing the exquisite,
Ignorant of imagination unlimited,
Even as the have-nots fight to fence in
One’s galloping unfurled spirit.

Armies have trodden atop this soil.
Dynasties have horded such open-sky wealth,
Yet efforts to make permanent captive
This ambulant prerogative,
Find endurance undeniably present.

Some wonder…

Why must that deemed beautiful,
Inspiring, and tenacious of will,
Remain so vulnerable?

Yet

For the stalwart,
Just as a rose seeks perpetual awareness
Between a book’s pages,
Beauty’s elegant passing
Knows to embrace its powdery remains
Riding atop eternity’s trade winds,
Levitating in perpetuity until…

Tomorrow’s tomorrow
Presents another sunrise,
Where light and color
Moved by nature’s gentle breath,
Prepares shadow’s trace to encounter
Saddled ugliness trying again to
Bridle perfection’s grace in motion.

And so

Poets continue to offer
Beauty’s essence,
Privilege,
And ingenuous smile,
A magical state of mind,
Deserving indomitable freedom,
Hopefully never harnessed.