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.
...
Published on February 09, 2012 14:15