Sometimes
Sometimes
Sometimes I break free
From the burden of interpretation
Run wild like a foal
In a field at springtime
Sometimes I take flight
From the double sided
Reality of the ground
Fly for its own sake
In arcitudes of love
The green pasture
Turning grey in the
Morning sun dawning
The silver moon smiling
At the return of her friend
Sometimes I need
To lay down my troubles
At the feet of the lord
The blissful meandering
Of his creation does not worry
And does not wait with
Gravelly expectation ..
Like a tire squealing
Or the shoe of a horse
Slipping
on a clear morning
An accountant’s glasses tilted
Above his nose
Even these things
The lords love Has wrought
And sometimes I break free
From the burden of interpretation
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Too much intellectual pride and not enough intellectual beauty
To Thine own Self be True
The Frost performs its secret ministry,Unhelped by any wind. Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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