LE CHEVAL ET LE PAPILLON

The meadow, once green and lush,

has turned brown with the flash

of your intense eyes

Gazing into mine

Turning into a kaleidoscope

Of grays and browns

The flowers, once food and fodder,

Are nowhere to be seen

Their bright colors are a distant memory

While yet their dew still freshly

Embeded on my feet

And so I rest

On that wet muzzle

Feeling the hot blasts

Of your breath blowing

On my wings

That I tuck back in protection

Your intense, sad eyes, whispering

Begging me to run free with you

But my fragile wings

Cannot keep pace with

The thundering gallop

Of your internal thoughts

You stand enthrawled

By the beauty of my wings

And the sweetness of nector

On my tongue

Forgetting for a moment

The pasture you ran wild alone

I rest from flight for a moment

Feeling the strength of your muscles

Beneath my feet

But the flowers of the meadow call me

Like the openess of the pasture calls you

But we meet here, daily

In this safe harbor of a stable

If only to share a moment before we

Both break free again to wander

In our own nature

You returning to your homestead

And I the cocoon I broke free from that hung

So delicately in the corner of the barn

Maybe when you return from your field

Your eyes will hold wonder instead of sadness

And I will have the smell of fresh flowers in my hair