Sunday, December 8, 2013


Sometimes I pick a horse. They all know me well.
It's okay, he knows we won't ride wild, but elated.
It's okay, we know where we're going, don't worry.
Let the tears flow, it's okay. It's just that way.

My horses know me well, they don't mind
when I want to take a side trail of rejoicing,
deep sadness or great joy along the way.
We know the way well, trodden often.

At trail's head, I sit by the tree, tears rolling.
Deep joy and high sadness reign in time,
while I sigh and slowly pant, respite needed,
needed badly in this world of nothing...

...nothing but inanity, insanity, propaganda,
truth left completely alone, waiting sedately,
ready for the last trump, when all becomes clear
on that last day when all is done when they,

when they thought it would go on forever...

--RK, 7:59pm, 12/8/2013

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