Riding

One day I rode upon Skinfaxi

And above the world

I watched below his hooves

As galloping he brought the day.

Beneath, before

The world rolled out

Unfurled, a flag

A portrait -

Of golden fields, of crystal rivers

Gurgling, twinkling about the rocks.

Of sun kissed woods, where nymphs and fauns 

Did dance

Amongst the glades.

And still Skinfaxi rode

Above the world

And with him gave to Nature

The Sun.

 

Once, perhaps, I chanced

To glance not down but at my 

Back

And saw Hrimfaxi trotting on

But wanting of a rider.

 

...

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Published on February 09, 2012 14:15
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