The Trouble with a Fine Horse
You have a fine steed
The envy of many
And you enter
The Greatest Race of All
Round and round you go
When suddenly
A portion of fencing
Falls away
And your steed thunders through
And for a while you run freely
Exhilarated
In silent agreement that this ride
Could never
Must never
End
Then suddenly you find yourselves
At the edge of a vast ocean
To continue the race
You must set your steed free
And go it alone
But how can you release him
When he has carried you so far
This is madness, you say
As you release his reins
He stands by you - equally hesitant to go
For without you upon his back
He is merely part of Nature’s landscape
Not One Fine Steed
But you urge him away
And face the water
Alone
Knowing nothing
But the cold campfires of those before you
Jumbles of chalky bones revealing the indecision of some
While vacant campfires keep the secret of others
Surely you’ll die
Yet you are willing to die crossing
Rather than become an indecisive pile of chalky bones
Again.
And you are drawn
By something higher than reason
More certain than logic
Madness, you whisper one last time
And as you begin your crossing
You smile
And notice
You have begun
To fly.
---unAsleep