In the harnessed bridle to my mount
the past surrounds me to recount,
as smooth silver spurred stirrups guild the union,
memories in supple leather bend to this notion,
as a cross of belted bullets span an ocean.
.
Long Andes mountain valley below.
Bushes and rushes along the cliffs.
Dew laden leaves of grass and snow.
Tan shadow on brown patches sniffs,
napping leopard muscles stretch.

Broad volcano has no waver.
Boulders glitter in the river.
Dark blue water wets the rocks and moss,
tuffs of bushes and rushes toss,
black hat held tight by the brim,
cold gold cat tails stalk the rim.
Sons and daughters of the rain,
greens and blues that feel no pain.

Grey mist punctured by sun and wind,
long gold rays come through the clouds,
light rivlet that tempers and bonds.
High eyes key to stretching motion,
eliptical spiral spins to the ocean.
Sense at height too too soon
but springs to mind.

Magic carpet ride I feel today.
Flying on an eagles wing to say
Hendrix blazing a strumming Rainy Day
and I absorbing mother in my vein.
Maroon winter coat to seal the name
motioning summer teal wings to tame,
blood of the game.

Such a pleasant pure and simple gain.
Smoke and fire colors on the brain.
Heights of elemental cosmic winter sleeting vane.
Born to seek and see the least mundane.
Sap of taste to be alive as no refrain.

I see and live again.



No wing in vain.