Visitant

One day but not the next
who can guess the hour
when a poem will come
down from the hills
like a solitary deer
pelt red and aglow
in the first light of dawn

She always feels you watching
returns your stare
even through curtains
window glass no matter
what stealthy silences
you might employ

Inspiration on prehensile legs
divine arrow unleashed
from on-high: watch but
you cannot hope to match
her speed her supreme
alert alacrity

Even to see her
is a long apprenticeship
an odyssey
discipline of the soul
a lifetime in the making

Yet she rewards you
with a flick of her eyes and ears
and everything her beauty
has to say about freedom

Graze on life like this she tells
with this lightness
bold yet unbeholden
flying though earthbound

Then leave it as I leave it
rising and falling
like a wind from the sea.

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This entry was posted in Photography, Poetry, Psychology, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

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