Withers of brushed pearl
Thus, horse helps hawk to fly, twitter take wind, the wren her place in the sky. ~Aucassin Verdé
Skyhorse
Not the white spread of plangent adoration
unfurled from withers of brushed pearl, not
the miraculous whip of godmane tearing devils
from the very heavens, not dawncaper and flankstorm,
but the smallest threads of tailtress laced through
the warbler’s bed, crownthorn cushed from the
inside with the neighing of clopdown and larkspur,
the sown dressage of spring hay halted by a hoof
in a tree, the stable that keeps the sky for the running
beneath when to take wing means to do just that,
to claim quill and meadowsong as one’s own, to
canter along bridled arcways that pass through
fallen cloudbolt, the distant vespers of svaha,
the rootless pooling of the heavy thundered sun.
Joseph Gallo
November 21, 2007
post-time 9:57 PM
4 Comments:
Keil Bay and I do something called the "rainbow ride" where we ride through the colors of the chakras as we do our work-out in the arena.
After reading this I'm adding a "sky ride" to our agenda.
Dressage amidst the clouds. What glory.
Lovely poem. I might ask your permission to quote it in my nonfiction book!
Thank you for inspiring it from that lovely photo of the bird's nest in your last blog entry at Camera-Obscura and your recounting of finding the horsefeathers from each of your animals entwined in it's construction.
It was one of those poems that come crashing through quickly, improvising it's own music, more mood and element than substance, an abstract of language, if you will.
And if you might ask, I might say yes. ;-) Glad you liked the piece, Billie.
Now everybody who might read this, look for the link to Billie's blogsite under blogword in the right column of Drachenthrax, or click on her name.
Oooooooh very dungeons & dragons like. I'll bet you're into those Renaissance Fairs and such.
Re: RenFaires & Such:
I'll bet I am, too. I'd be wrong, of course, but I'm still willing to bet.
I'm also willing to bet you didn't understand a single word of the poem, let alone the thema of it. That's okay. Keep trying. ;-)
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