In fields lost, I walked to scatter
Stumbling on a smoky horse
He looked at death, paid no matter
Whilst I foraged in the gorse
Thorns I found for all my reaching
Bloodied flowers for my food
As the horse ran round beseeching
Neighing, nipping, never rude
I asked him how he came so far
From herd, stable, guiding hand
He turned and showed a flanking scar
Sword and shield his burning brand
By other wounds and lashing stripes
I sought bother him no more
Set to bury my little gripes
Having seen my share of war
Yet still he bade me give him chase
Galloping some yards ahead
And warned me sharp to lift my face
Flying from that windless dread
Wearied from the overland ride
We stopped brief in glowing night
Where moon pulled with memory’s tide
All my failings into sight
“I must away,” I tried to say
With every word spitting sand
At that dark hour so bright as day
My lone rest to humbly stand
“No more,” I said, “Just do your worst.
If found a coward thieving,
I won’t pretend I’m not the first.”
“No,” he said, “Man believing.”
“Nothing lies so heavy, aching
That empty which you’ve carried
Years you ran afar unmaking;
Let these days be unharried.”
“There is a fire that still abounds
An archway unforgetting
Climb up with me and hear the sounds
Of suns that know no setting.”
Thus I did, in shame still tangled
Awhile, yes, awhile too long
Yet for miles we fought and wrangled
To find that gloried love song
Of boys and girls, gardens wasted
Driven hard to watch and wait
Till serpents crushed, deathly tasted
Borne across the flaming gate
‘Tis there I press in Autumn’s wrack
With Winter’s draw darkening
And there one day I shall look back
That horse’s word still hearkening
Beautiful poem!